Yesterday at my parents’ house,
I came across some old journals of mine from around 2000-2003.
The “High school years”…
I knew that I had journaled a lot here and there, off and on, but for some reason, I had forgotten that I journaled as much as I did.
It was strange looking back into the daily life of myself as a teenage girl…
As I read through the pages, I laughed at my lack of maturity, and all of my teenage obsessions…
And at the same time, I wanted to cry for, comfort, and encourage the young girl who was pouring her heart into the pages, asking God for help.
This young girl who was so frustrated with herself,
her bad attitude
On one page, I would be so happy and excited about something in my life, and the next I would be down and frustrated, and I’d talk about how I got into trouble because I blew up about something.
But in the middle of it all…
I had filled the pages with honest prayers and with scriptures that I was digging into at the time.
And it was the first time in my life that I was walking through the New Testament, verse by verse.
And I had to laugh because my level of “ups and downs” were about as “drastic” and dramatic as the “ups and downs” of King David in the psalms… 😆
…At least on a “teenage girl” living in the 2000’s kind of level. ☺️
One minute I was rejoicing about something,
the next I was down in a pit of despair.
I had forgotten about all of the prayers and conversations I had written to God in those times, and a lot of the things I was reading and writing about that I was reading from the scriptures didn’t begin sinking in until many years later in my life.
But as I read through the pages this morning…
…I could see…
in a fresh, new way…
that God was with me,
all through that time,
and He heard every single one of my prayers.
As “imperfect” as they were prayed…
He heard my cries for help.
He heard my heart.
He knew my heart.
He loved my heart.
And He saw each prayer, and He acted on each one of them that I poured out from my heart.
On another note, I also came to a particular journal where I felt especially creative…
I wrote the words with all kinds of different pen colors…
And I would listen to instrumental songs, and I would write vivid stories of what I would imagine would be happening to those songs.
Scenes, characters, situations…
I practiced writing poetry and descriptive stories.
And I came to a place where a certain group of people were on my heart, some friends who didn’t know the Lord…
And I wrote down, in quotes, what I felt God was saying to these people.
It was a safe place where I could be free to come alive and learn in these areas.
It was a safe place where I could learn and practice creative things when it comes to writing words that would “paint what I saw” in my imagination.
…and I had no idea what I was doing, I was just being free within those pages of my journal.
God was working in my life—even in some of my darkest days.
And He was teaching me about who I was, and what He designed into me.
…even if I had no idea what He was doing at the time.
And what a blessing it has been to look back upon those days, and see that He was doing a deep work, even in my darkest days, even in the days when I thought I was “messed up the most” in all of my ways.
Even though I wasn’t able to grasp a lot of what He was doing at the time…
Even though many times, it didn’t really feel like anything was “sinking in” and changing in my life…
God was doing a work in me, He was teaching me, even then.
And He’s doing a work in us,
He’s speaking into us,
who He has made us to be…
And how much He loves who we are...
even if we can’t see it,
even if we can’t feel it
even if we don’t realize it yet…
He is. 💖✍🏻
Thank You, Father. 💝