Day One: Journal Fire

One month left in 2019, and it’s time for the annual journal
burn!

Kidding. I’ll probably just throw them away – a practice I
never gave much thought to until I told a friend and begot a response.

“Why would you throw away your journals?” she asked, trying to keep a poker face.

“Why would I keep them?” I asked her.

It’s a fair question on both sides, and it’s not just the
journals that need to go – it’s the dead plants in pots all around the house,
the toys that no longer match my boys age/stage, the clothes that no longer jive,
the anything/everything filling up space, holding back, weighing down, or
blocking the view. It’s everything that once had a job to do but no longer
does. Think of it as my physical manifestation of the unseen work God is doing
in my heart, soul, mind, and strength to move.me.on.

I will do it again this year. I will “burn” the journals, but my friend’s question has prompted me to first take an accounting of this last year in all its tones and textures. There are memories sharp as the first time they played, but I’d like to re-read the moment I recorded them. There are things I’ve forgotten that I need to remember and write down in a more permanent way. There are moments I’ll re-remember one last time and be pleased to let go.

It’s my own kind of Advent. December gives us 31 days, and I’ll blog through every one of them to gather, render, and release in anticipation of what’s to come. You can sign up for the posts to come straight to your inbox, but why don’t you “for real” join me in an advent of your own? Gather the journals. Read through them. Give thanks. Make ready for the new by lighting up the old on December 31.