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Gracie and me

Journaling and God

 Who else keeps a journal?  

In my teenage years, I had diaries.  I wish I had saved those silly young girls' rants about boys, first kisses, and friends' loyalty and betrayal.  I do not remember ever getting rid of the diaries, but since I do not have them today, then I will assume that at some point in my life, I looked at them as secrets I wished no one else to know and sent the pages to die in the dumpster along with the sins of my past. 

Lately, God has been urging me to stop writing so much and start reviewing those journals I did hang on to from adulthood.  

Documenting everyday life and sharing thoughts, feelings, successes, and failures tends to release pressure from one's daily existence; hence, a volcano does not erupt from holding the mess of life inside.  And this:  in review, a journal can convict you - whether you acted rightly or wrongly - a journal review is like you become judge and jury of your past.  

I'm learning a lot about myself by going back into my journals.  I am also learning a lot about God's faithfulness.  I confess that life has not turned out as I had hoped. However, I have learned so much along the way.  And despite the perfect life I had charted for myself that did not pan out - God has been and is still there - directing my steps.  If I step out of line, I have no one to blame but myself.  And that's the beauty of following God and His will.  It is why God's chastisement for mistakes made can be gold if we learn something along the way.  

There is no better therapy than the truth God reveals if we open our hearts to Him.  

Upon leaving after watching Summer at a horseback riding
lesson last year, I came across this beautiful scene.  
God paints the best pictures.  

LIFE GOES ON AND WE MAKE THE BEST OF WHAT GOD HAS GIVEN US

 Bubbles had a vet appointment this morning.  Find out all about the results here. 

Today, I would like to talk to you about 'absence.'  You know... when someone has been there for such a long time, and now they are gone.  

My dad died at fifty-three years of age.  His absence left me sad.  At age sixty-nine, my mom died.  I missed her even more than my dad because she was with me longer.  A lot changed after she was gone.  

Nine years ago, I lost a sister and a brother, both in the same year.  I never realized losing a sibling would hurt so much.  But it did.  And their absence stings to this day.  

It will soon be three years since losing Gracie.  Oh, the emptiness that was left in our house with her absence.  

At night, when I take Bubbles outside, I pass Uncle Vic's window, and there is darkness in his apartment. I no longer hear his TV blaring or see him struggling to eat dinner at the kitchen table.  It does my heart good to know that I can still visit with him in the nursing home.  But his absence here at home hurts a little.  

Many people and pets, for one reason or another, become absent in our lives as time marches on.  Some people do fine with it.  Some medicate to help with sadness or sorrow or just life in general.  Some choose to drink or drug their way into feelings of comfort.  I prefer to feel the sadness. Something is cleansing and freeing in the spirit about feeling sad, crying, and moving on.  

When I examine my life now and compare it to ten years ago, I go to the final words of this incredible Bible verse:  

Psalm 30:5    ...  weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

And the joy that comes from God is better than any drug out there.  Its supernatural perfectness is what I want and seek more than anything else.  

Absence, I found, is okay.  When one door closes, another door opens.  When one person, dog, or pet is removed from your life, another enters, and your heart goes on.  And as long as God stays - you are never alone.   

My Grandma