I saw this written on my middle school’s girl restroom wall.
In my last post, I declared that I was going to make time for prayer before bedtime. Did I stick to it? Kinda. I started journaling. I feel like I get more clarity in my writing. Different from the blog because in the journaling I create affirmations for myself. I am… As to cultivate positive and motivation towards my goals. Also, in the journaling, I am more aware of what my goals actually are. As I mentioned before, I can easily get caught up in the gym, work, and gym again routine so this pushed me to hone into my gifts. Also, that fact it is now summer vacation, I can make this more of a habit because now I have created my own schedule for the day, so I don’t get caught up in social media or anything else that can take up most of my valuable time.
It’s funny I have to make this a habit, journaling, when I was younger that’s pretty much what I did all the time. I think this act of writing came from taking creative and journalism in my eighth-grade year. My dad had put me in those classes, I guess he saw something in me before I even knew I would find solace in this craft. Back in 8th-grade writing found me… now I teach middle school. Is this is a coincidence? Is God trying to bring me back to where it all began? Middle school. The phase of my life that made no sense to me. A phase that brought on so much confusion, insecurity, and change.
I had so many journals from that time in my life. Spiral notebooks, leather-bound journals, and journals with brightly colored designs on the cover. I had a plethora of journals, it was something I looked forward to.. what was going to be the next journal to hold all my secrets. When I came back home from living in New York, fast forward 10 years from middle school, I think, I reread those same journals and realized they all held the same theme: depression. Every entry seemed to be steered towards confusion on what I wanted to be when I grew up or dissatisfied with my appearance: there were quite a few meal/ workout plans conjured up in my journals. After reading each journal, my immediate response was to get rid of them… and I did.
There was something in me that knew I had to change my thinking, even in my writing. the writing had to be the origin of this change. Those negative ideas could be acknowledged but I needed to counterpoint them with a positive. As a way to heal the wound that I was constantly picking at in my head. Writing could cure this. I feel it, see on the paper, then create words to ease the pain.
Sermons help for inspiration to ease the pain, yet somehow as I write the answer appears on the paper. God still speaks.
After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”
1 Kings 19:12-13 NIV