Last night beside my night stand I reached down and picked up my new, brightly adorned journal filled with empty pages patiently awaiting it’s time to be filled with entries of my heart.
This weekend the pages came to an end on my previous journal and I closed the last page to that journal with anticipation to end this last season.
Locked inside those pages are some stories and challenges I hope to never have to walk through again.
Almost a year ago I picked up that journal and began pouring my heart out as I learned to trust God in new ways.
The cover etched with the the infamous lines of Psalms 23 echoed the season I walked through.
The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want.
This verse, an anthem in my life this year.
The Lord is my Shepard, I have all that I need.
Through the pages of that spiraled book I prayed my heart out as I learned to trust God in a season of confusion.
A season of learning that Jesus is truly ALL that I need….not money, job, security, a house, or anything that embodies the pursuit of the “American Dream.”
Then the those last months of that journal, filled with tear-stained pages as I began the journey into the pit of grief.
Holding this book, filled with my life, I look back, flipping through the many words strung together over the last 365 days and I see a glimpse into the future before me now.
Looking BACK I don’t only see the pain of the past, rather the hope of a new season.
Choosing a journal to hold my prayers is not something I purchase mindlessly. Each journal I choose for the next season, chosen with intention.
When I reached beside my bedside last night I brought up my new journal where I laid on my lap and christened the cheery cover with some fresh tear stains.
Tears of gratitude.
The front, JOY.
When I purchased this journal many months ago I had no idea of the new season that would be beyond the bend …the prayers of a crazy journey that would fill these pages.
My mind raced as I wondered,
would these pages hold the words to a new season ahead?
would this lined pages began to weave together a new chapter to my story?
would life begin to burst forth in a colorful way, like the pages of this cover?
after a loooooonnnnnngggg season of struggle, darkness and death, would I finally be able to catch my breath again?
could this book begin to form and hold the vision of my life again that has been lost for too many years?
My fingers gently pressing into the cover, tracing each letter, joy.
My imagination bursting with ideas and wonder.
I wait and watch
Look! I’m doing a new thing;
now it sprouts up; don’t you recognize it? Is. 43:19