Yesterday, Judah pulled all my journals off the bookcase and was piling them up everywhere. I collected them and set them ont he futon for a moment, and then got inspired to read them. I read them ALL, from June of 1997 to the last entry I put in there in February of 2005. I think there are eight journals. They chronicle the depression I went through after my mom died, the dysfunctional ensuing relationship and breakup with my boyfriend, my struggle with learning to live without my mom, getting through all those monthly markers, the way God shaped me through that, and my first summer doing summer missions. They chronicle the meeting and dating relationship of a man I loved and would have married, had he asked, and also all my doubts about whether he was the One, and then the devastating breakup and lack of direction my life took afterward. They chronicle the continued agony of more days between having my mom alive, of learning that I truly loved Joshua and the surety of that love, our pre-engagement period (we never really dated), engagement, and how the journaling dissipated once I got married.
It’s pretty amazing to go back through and relive 8 years of my life in one afternoon and evening. i’m journaling again. I wrote one entry today.