In the last few months, I’ve taught a couple journaling classes. When I was a teenager especially, I journaled all the time, but since adulthood it has been a hit or miss activity for me. Mostly because I had outgrown the ‘Dear Diary’ phase and usually just felt selfish after writing about my life. Over the years, my journaling has turned mostly to writing my prayers. Recently I have found reflective journaling and it has become very healing. I thought I would share my last journal entries from the class I taught last weekend.



Oh how I have questioned you. How I have wondered about your mercies. I have questioned your goodness and sovereignty over and over again. I have struggled with the storms in our life, I have raged against the rain. I have crumbled under them trying not to curse you. And yet, I look at your hand over me, shielding me from the rain. How much, O Lord, have you spared me from? Your mercies are new every morning. I know you are protecting us and shielding us from greater pain. You are our empathizer and you sit with us in our trails. You love us and keep us. You are a good Father even when we sit in the puddles, soaking wet, and cold from the trials of this life. You promised to not leave us or forsake us. Draw near to God and he will draw near to you. While I sit under the burden of our life, you stand above me, protecting me from the crushing weight of Satan wanting to push down on me. Thank you for being empathizer, healer, and firm foundation.  


Lord – what? What is this path you have me on? This is not how I saw my life playing out. What are you doing? Why do you keep forcing my feet onto paths I didn’t want to walk. I never wanted leadership or a spot light. I never wanted to advocate and fight battles. Why are my feet placed on rough patches time and again. Why are you telling me to be brave? I want to stay home and drink my coffee, read a book. Why do I need to be brave? What is this life you have given me and why must everything change again? Transitions. The painful path of transitions. How I loathe them. I see your hands weaving all these seemingly loose strands of my life together. But how scary it is to see. Beautiful and hard all in one. What is this path and why have I been called to walk it. You lead the blind in ways we do not know and you won’t forsake us. I know this is my path and I know I will continue to walk in it and I know you will be by my side.


What have I lost, found and rejoiced over? My joy, my healing, my faith. You have freed me from so much baggage this year. You have given me space to search for the pieces of my life. For the things of myself lost in hospitals, therapy sessions, and IEP’s. You have allowed me the space and time to search diligently for the gifts you have given me. You have been a lamp to my feet. You have slowly and carefully been pouring love into the cracks of my soul and making me whole again. You have helped me to find the gold coins of your salvation and healing. And how we have rejoiced. For it was a long fought battle. A battle that you never gave up on. You loved me even then and even still. You rejoiced greatly when I found my salvation again. My gifts were never gone only misplaced. You have brought me around to use them again and to serve you well. Help me. Help me to continue to grown and serve and not to forget the search. Don’t let me forget how long I had to look for you.