Jan. 26, 2015
Quite often my journal entries end up being much longer than
I thought they would be when I sat down to write. The thing about writing is that you have to think to do it. As I write about
something for which I’m grateful, a certain thought process unfolds, wherein I
realize the blessing is not one thing in isolation, rather it’s a component of a
conversation God is trying to have with me, a revelation of His hand in my
life. The blessings wouldn’t be visible if I didn’t sit down and take stock;
the conversation would be inaudible if I didn’t notice one little blessing.
Today’s blessing is one such example.
I talked on the phone this afternoon with a writing buddy
who moved away a couple of years ago. We haven’t visited in several months, and
our catching up always includes some musings about writing. She told me she’s
writing her memoir, and I told her about my gratitude journal and gave her the
link, with instructions to start at the first post in order to understand the
reasons for my ramblings. She texted later in the day, “Dropped everything – so
swept up in your blog. Keep writing!”
Our conversation came on the heels of a months-long string
of Mama-said days. I got beat down during the stress of the holidays and didn’t
write, in part because I didn’t have the time, and in part because when I’m
using my limited energy to keep my head above churning waves, it’s hard to see
things to be grateful for. After Friend’s comment today, I went back and read my
first – and subsequent – posts to read through her eyes and see what might
have swept her up. I’m not sure what that might have been, but for me, reading
my own words threw cold water on my pity party.
My gratitude today is three-fold:
- For the uplift of connecting with a friend
- For the subsequent nudge to go back and read my own journal, the purpose of which I myself stated is a daily exercise of recognizing blessings and to help me remember during the times when the clouds obscure my vision that I am blessed.
- For God’s roundabout way of giving me a hand up and out of the winter-blues-bad-mood-funk I’m in
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