I have been filling up journals since I first got married (a LONG time ago). A few of them I plan to burn.
While it is interesting to see how I’ve grown over the years, I REALLY don’t like the scared person I used to be. My journals are filled with so many fears about so many things, along with the assumption that if I will just do something it will fix the problem. Waaaa, waaaa, waaaa! Quite frankly, it nearly makes me ill to read those scaredy-cat writings. And I’m fairly certain I don’t want others to read them, either.
The problem is that interspersed among all that whining, there are a few gems of insight, as I have recognized God growing me. So I’m torn. I want my children to be able to read about my life as a young wife and mother and know how very proud I was to be their mom; how grateful I was that God had given me those children. But I don’t want them to read about my most crushing fears. (This may just be a pride thing.)
Here’s what I do know, from reading all those entries in my journals. I like me better when my focus is on God. Those particular journal entries are keepers. They are the expressions of a child of God in love with her Father. Those entries show spiritual growth and the beginnings of wisdom He gives to all His children who seek it.
Perhaps my children and grandchildren will read my journals someday. I hope they will forgive the youthful childishness and fear they find written way too often and will recognize the growth pains as God “raised” me. Maybe it will encourage them to keep seeking Him and growing themselves.
Okay, maybe I won’t burn them. Maybe I’ll write a disclaimer and attach it to the front of each journal. Or maybe I’ll just let them see my transparency and figure it out for themselves.
Maybe they will want to burn them…