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Journaling has always intrigued me. Those little clothbound books with blank pages shout to me from the shelves in the store. I have the notebook size, the pocket size, the gilt-edged ones and those with notes for daily entries. Most of them remain mostly blank.
When our daughter went to Brussels for a year, I purchased one of those books to record events while she was gone—which I faithfully did for three days. A month later I have a note:
Well, I can see I am really keeping up with this journal. Hearing Florence Littauer’s tapes and reading Catherine Marshall’s books make me wish I had.
The next entry is a year and a half later.
I think I didn’t keep up because I tend to reveal too much of myself in my journals. I am afraid someone might read them. Like this entry:
Monday Morning
A happy thought is that in eternity there will be no Monday mornings—if, as the song goes, ‘Every day will be Sunday by and by.’
Today I am exhausted. My mind is blank, my body is unresponsive. It is amazing how these feelings also affect my spirit.
I have read God’s Word with the enthusiasm of eating cream of wheat. The nourishment is there, I know; I just am not excited about it.
Lord, I am so glad that I know You know me. You were with us yesterday in a wonderful day of worship and fellowship with Your people. You were with us last night when we drove home on a clear evening watching the new moon go down, and You are with us now, even though it is Monday morning and I am in neutral in mind and body.
Thank you, Lord, that Your promise to be with us always includes Monday mornings.
Thankfully all the entries aren’t as gloomy. This one was written on a day when I had peace:
Peace—is not the same as quiet,
for I can have peace amidst the din;
Peace—is not the same as signing a truce,
for I can have peace amidst conflict;
Peace—is not the same as victory,
for I can have peace before the battle is won.
Peace comes from God’s presence,
for I can have peace because of His Son.
You are getting this newsletter on Monday morning. I hope your morning is going better than mine was that March day so long ago. But whether it is or isn’t, my prayer for each of you is that you will know the peace of God which passes understanding—on Monday morning and all through the week.
Remember this promise:
“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7, NIV).
Do circumstances sometimes rob me of peace? How does physical exhaustion affect my spiritual fervor? Am I candidly in touch with my inner feelings, whether I journal them or not?
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