In the Big-Inning....

It's interesting how life works out. I first started keeping a diary when I was probably about 8-years-old. The contents of those pages consisted of horsey drawings and a eulogy for my favorite pony, but the seeds of what would become pages upon pages of documented triumphs, losses, emotions, and lessons were planted.

Although this practice of journaling has only recently secured a spot in my daily routine, the act of writing has always been therapeutic for me. When thoughts start flying around in my head, getting them out on paper helps me find peace from the chaos. (SIDE NOTE: Gentlemen, don't be discouraged if you have no idea what a woman is thinking. When she's actin' a lil' crazy, chances are, neither does she.)


One of the best parts is re-reading old journals. Times when I've felt overwhelmed and discouraged with my life, I can crack open an old journal and find myself face-to-face with my 16-, 17-, 18-year-old self with all her hopes and goals and dreams. It reminds me of God's faithfulness and how He has used every event in my life for good time and time again. The future is instantly bright again, anxiety gives way to indescribable peace, and the shackles of circumstances fall to the ground.