Whoever you are, thank you for taking a chance on reading what I have to say. I have never considered myself a writer, or even "hip" enough to have a blog, but I say that if people can blog about cats, or turtles, or something like that, then I might as well give it a shot, in case anyone should find my life interesting enough to read about.
Do we agree?
Fantastic!
I used to hate writing about my life, or my experiences. When I would get the urge and start a journal, I usually would write a few things, read over it, then give up, simply because what I wrote wasn't how I really felt, but what I thought would sound good written in a journal. But now, having written in a journal religiously for about a year, I wonder how exactly I got from writing what "sounds good" to writing my heart out on paper.
I would have to say that it really stems from my extremely nostalgic heart. I am nineteen years old, as of the time I write this, however if you asked anyone who knows me, they might tell you I'm actually eighty seven, only trapped in a nineteen year old's body. When I sit down and start thinking about my life and the things I've felt and experienced, I have a tendency to really start to tear up. I can sit and think about the things I've experienced and felt and done for hours on end, and never get tired. "Why does the past have to keep getting ripped away from me," I ask God sometimes. Often, I find that God has to drag me into the future, kicking and screaming, even though I know it's for my own good. I suppose I journal, just to remember what my days were like, to remember what God did and when and where he did them, lest I ever forget, which would be the biggest tragedy I've ever committed.
Don't get me wrong, I love the future, I guess I just get to consumed in the past and where God's brought me.
But through all of that, perhaps I just have to remind myself that life is an adventure, and God still has greater things to show me.
Do we agree?
Fantastic!
I used to hate writing about my life, or my experiences. When I would get the urge and start a journal, I usually would write a few things, read over it, then give up, simply because what I wrote wasn't how I really felt, but what I thought would sound good written in a journal. But now, having written in a journal religiously for about a year, I wonder how exactly I got from writing what "sounds good" to writing my heart out on paper.
I would have to say that it really stems from my extremely nostalgic heart. I am nineteen years old, as of the time I write this, however if you asked anyone who knows me, they might tell you I'm actually eighty seven, only trapped in a nineteen year old's body. When I sit down and start thinking about my life and the things I've felt and experienced, I have a tendency to really start to tear up. I can sit and think about the things I've experienced and felt and done for hours on end, and never get tired. "Why does the past have to keep getting ripped away from me," I ask God sometimes. Often, I find that God has to drag me into the future, kicking and screaming, even though I know it's for my own good. I suppose I journal, just to remember what my days were like, to remember what God did and when and where he did them, lest I ever forget, which would be the biggest tragedy I've ever committed.
Don't get me wrong, I love the future, I guess I just get to consumed in the past and where God's brought me.
But through all of that, perhaps I just have to remind myself that life is an adventure, and God still has greater things to show me.
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