Written and unwritten

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Pen on the page.  Spelling out details of a life in words.  Pain, endurance, joy and faith mingled together to form life from clay.  I am alive when I write.  You have compelled me to express that which I cannot contain.  Words spring to life.  Lining up in verse and prose.  Molding into something indentifiable and good.

My hand cannot keep up to the thoughts popping into my mind.  I scurry to write, afraid I will be too late in getting them pinpointed in black and white.

I've written a thousand novels and works of literature.  Tales of secrets I'd rather not share.  Broken promises and regrets.  I tend not to linger here, afraid to give too much time to those things I have let fall behind.  But I know it's only because of these things that I can truly see the value of the Good, the Blessing and the Hope.

~*~

As long as I can remember I have journalled.  When I was in grade 7 I kept a detailed one of my most secret thoughts and wishes.  I carried it with me at all times.  One day in Home Economics class a female classmate took the journal and read the contents of it aloud for the entire class.  I was humiliated.  I remember that very vividly.  Junior high was not my favorite time span in personal history.  From then on I have been a little afraid to let others read my writing.  Being vulnerable is risky.  The fear of rejection always looming. 

But I'm getting over that.

What's written above is taken from my journal entry from January 28th.  I also recently shared this at a lady's retreat.  The theme was The Pages Of Your Life. The stories we are writing with our lives only make sense when we look at them as a whole, not as separate paragraphs or short stories.  Like a list of spelling words, they would seem disjointed if not connected into a whole sentence with punctuation and meaning.  I must look at my whole life story as a book, slowly unfolding before me.  Reading every chapter.  Perhaps not making full sense of it all until farther along in the story. 

I've tried to skip parts of my story too.  When certain aspects drag on or I cannot make heads or tails of why I am in this particular chapter, I want to skip ahead to something more interesting than descriptions of landscape or characters. 

I'm learning to stay on the page that's being written. 

Are you?  




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