Dear Diary...

I have never written those words in my entire life...I don't think anyways...

While cleaning my room, I inevitably have to clean out my bookshelves. Random things get stuffed and hidden in there; old papers, mail, socks, and my books get all disheveled looking. The place where I keep all of my journals was especially crazy since I hadn't really reorganized them since they were last pulled out and thrown in a box when my family was evacuated because of the fires during my freshman year at UCI.

I started journaling regularly on Monday, August 26, 2002 when I was in 8th grade and haven't stopped since. Fourteen daily journals and three missions/ traveling ones full of exactly what was going on in my life at those times; how things were in the family, my grades, who I liked, what my homework was, the temperature, anything and almost everything is logged in those things. I think my journals are some of the more sentimental things that I own. I remember during those fires, I called home and mom asked what I wanted them to pack for me. "O MY GOSH! GRAB MY JOURNALS!!! I don't care about anything else!" To this day my dad and sisters are all, "What the heck! Don't make us bring those things! They're too heavy!" My precious memories are of little value to them. I'm not sure exactly why my attachment to them is so great. It's not like I frequently sit and read through them, they certainly are not filled with the most profound thoughts, and I probably wont pass them down to my progeny. But, I like them.
The rare occasions that I do skim through my journals, I have mixed emotions. Mostly of embarrassment because I was so dumb and also of thankfulness and gratitude to God for His grace in my life. Reading through my journals, God's work in my life is evident even if it wasn't apparent then, it is now. I'm a pretty consistent journaler, rarely missing more than a week's worth of journal entries and for the most part my entries are fairly detailed. I don't know why I journal like this, but I am glad that I do. It makes it super easy to look back and see how I was/am being sanctified, prayers answered, and God's hand in it all. I can read and see what an angsty, selfish, prideful, impatient, worldly 8th grader I was and then see the change as God drew me nearer to Himself and matured me. My choice in journals has even matured!
This time as I was skimming through them, I got a little sad. Over and over again I have to pray, "God help me be more aware of Your grace in my life. Draw me nearer to Christ and the cross." You would think that after so many years I would have figured out how to keep the gospel at the forefront of my mind & that Christ would be the motivation for all that I do. But I'm dumb and haven't, not completely anyways. Reading my old entries I can see how my my thoughts and actions are slowly moving towards a more christlike direction, but yes, progress is slow.

There really isn't a rational reason for me to keep my journals around or to make my family pack them up when they have to evacuate. But they are testaments of God's grace and faithfulness in my life transforming me from "one degree of glory to another". I think I will keep them around a little longer.