Friday, July 9, 2010
I’ve kept journals before here and there since I was a kid. I remember my first one. You know, the ones where it always starts out, “Dear Diary,” which is promptly followed by some boy you're were crushing on saga. I found my journal the other day in a box. It's pink with gold lettering and a small, easy to bust into lock. I had been going through some old stuff and had some great laughs between the diary and old letters Chris and I wrote to each other before we got married while he lived out of state for college. Ohhh, the memories!
There was a time that keeping a journal really helped me be a become a person. I was battling depression and nothing was getting me out of the funk I was in. I forced myself to write 3 positive things before I could rant and it really changed the way I viewed things. I was amazed at how things got better over a relatively short amount of time. To this day, I still am so thankful for that turned over leaf that I so desperately needed.
There are only a few people in my life that know about one of the journals that I keep now. I don’t write in it as often as I’d like nor have I been able to get to all the things I have really wanted to write about. This journal is not for me though. It is for Aleeyah. I love everything about it. Its cream colored pages with irregular edges. Its fresh leather smell. The small leather straps that wrap around and hold it closed. Its meaning. I started it in February 2009 and I write about everything under the sun. Things like her favorite foods, words she says, people she knows and the great qualities about them, family who she never had the chance to meet, our adventures we go on, the quiet moments, the hard but rewarding moments, and more than anything-how she has changed mine and her dad’s lives. It features an ongoing section of “100 Reasons Why I Love You”, drawings created by her, doodling done by me, and even the outline of my hand with an outline of hers inside. Thoughtful quotes and great scripture. It’s all there and I look forward to giving it to her someday when she's older.
Blogging is also a sort of journal to me. An enhanced version, if you will. With pictures, videos and a LOT of words. I know one day we can look back and recount our time together and it gives me a place to talk about other positive things in my life. I choose not to talk about some of the hardest times I’ve faced. Some accuse bloggers of only writing about the good moments while pretending that we don’t have our own sets of problems. While I agree that this can sometimes cause us to envy their lives, we have to remember that they just choose to not write about those things publicly as to not hurt people or as a dear friend said, they choose to not give them value or worth by writing them down. I’ve been accused of this myself. I’ve been accused of not showing the “real” me. That I’ve put on my new set of perfect clothes and am hiding the dingy ones underneath.
I feel it’s an unfair accusation. I’ve had many blog entries about the weaknesses that I have. I’ve spent many talking about the areas that I feel I’m not compassionate enough about. How I feel that I’m not doing enough to give to others. In the light of all of it, I know those accusations are just one bit of the huge, negative puzzle that was laid out in a public place about me and the many others that care about this person. So many lies and twisted facts. So many people believing the lies and joining in on the mocking and judging. While I don’t want to admit that this person got to me like they did, it is my reason for my absence. There is only so much you can read about yourself through the eyes of such negativity before you have to step away. This person doesn’t know me any more and with all that was said, I question whether or not they ever really knew me.
It’s been hard to stay focused here and for that, I had decided to take some time away. It wasn’t really intentional-like I woke up that next morning and said I wouldn’t be blogging. I just woke up and found it hard to pick up the computer and not think of the things written about me and my family. When I sat down to write an email, I found it really painful because my mind would be flooded with the lies. When I began to blog, the feelings of fear of how it could be twisted was enough to make me never want to blog again. I began feeling like this small white box with its shinny apple on the top was the enemy and I took a bite out of it and was feeling its poison. I’ve never used this place to try and intentionally hurt someone and yet, someone has used it against me and to hurt me. So I began asking God to take my time away from here so that I could focus on Him, my family, and myself. That was hard. I feel like I let a lot of people down. I feel like I broke close bonds. He gave me some peace about it when I began seeing that He was giving me the space I needed. Then I asked him to take away the pain I was feeling about this little, white box. A box with so many opportunities.
I’m beginning to feel more comfortable being on here again and widdling through my inbox. I’ve met so many amazing people during my blogging journey and I miss them! Each one has helped me understand a different part of myself and a different part of being in a community. We may not always agree and we may not always feel the most intrigued by a post, but we enjoy coming together and being a part of each others outings through pictures, fun moments through tagging, and even more so, the deep heart felt emotions written in often long, long posts that we read to the very end. Every word. Every emotion. We try our hardest to understand the depth of each word and we cry together. We laugh together. We pray together. We meet people we’ve never met and give them the open book and open heart policy.
I hope that I’ve always offered that kind of love to each person that He has sent to cross my path. Sharing my victories and defeats in life. My moments of great strength and my moments of great weakness. I believe with all that I have that God won’t let our stories be wasted and unused if we allow Him to do what He needs to do and I don’t intend on letting satan have my story. This is a place for me to journal my story-the good, the bad, and all in between. I’m not perfect and I make mistakes..often (and we aren’t just talking grammatically). I’m not always there when I need to be and I’m horrible about following through with things at times. But I hope that I’ve used my space here to encourage and inspire others, bring smiles to some faces, and be a friend to anyone that needed one. Yes, your life would go on whether I'm here or not, but I pray that God has used me to enrich it in whatever way He has equipped me.
I’m sorry for not being there to read every word you’ve written lately.
I’m sorry for allowing my fear and hurt to keep me away.
I’m sorry for all the missed opportunities.
I’m sorry for letting satan ring the victory bell.
Though in my heart, I know God is ringing His right now.
Because another humility lesson has been learned.
Another page scribbled in my book.
And I stand in awe of God and his healing power
--even in my little space of .com.
(now lets see if this PUBLISH POST button still works!)