Track back to transformation

For almost ten years, I have written faithfully in journals. Much like my occasional writing here, it helps me process my thoughts and understand myself. I have over 20 used journals littering my room, full of my deepest musings. Should you investigate (and my goodness, please don't) you would find that in 1998, those included my burning desire for bangs like Cher in "Clueless." In 2001, I talked about how sad a friend had made me. The summer of 2003, I loved my friends so much and was devastated that I would have to leave them. 2004 and 2005 were very hard years at Taylor, when I hit a wall because I didn't know who I was or what I was doing. Every entry was a vortex of depression, self deprecation and fear of the seemingly bleak future.

For that very reason, reading old journals used to make me cringe. I can't believe how immature I was and it was scary to see the things I struggled with, because I still struggled with them. I could document the birth of a fear or a stumbling block with almost frightening precision. In fact, very frightening. At times, I would muster up the courage to open a book from my sophomore year of high school, and would be upset by the time I reached the bottom of page one.

In the fall of 2005, I can begin to see a change. My time at Focus on the Family Institute was incredible and by the end, I was finally learning who I was, and who God was. I am still learning both of those, of course, and I will always be a student in that way. Yesterday, I opened a journal from six months ago. I have filled it since then, and another after it, but I was wondering last night where I was at the beginning of 2007. What a joy it was to read.

While I still wondered about many things, especially as I was waiting to hear from OMS and was still trying to open my heart and allow myself to really fall in love with Brazil, each page was a beautiful reminder of wonderful times with the Lord. My routine at home is different than it was at school, but while I was still at Taylor I would park myself on my purple couch every night, worship, and write my prayers. Reading over those intimate moments was so refreshing. While just a few years ago, I would write almost every day about wanting to change myself, here I sought the Lord and His desires for me, even though I will always struggle with those same things. It's scary and with God it seems like you're always hanging for dear life onto a tree limb or the side of a cliff, or to a buoy in turbulent waters.
But let me tell you, that is a much easier way to live.