I am a writer by trade. The ability to put thoughts and emotions into words on paper should come easily.
And the words do come easily… if they are for other people. I’ve been a ghostwriter for a while. I can quickly write a post or a chapter or a book expressing the heart and mind of my clients.
But when it came to my heart?
Not so much.
A friend of mine, a wonderful man from India named Gene, with his smile as big as the sky and brown eyes that carry the depth of the love of God, pulled me aside a year ago in the midst of a heaviness caused by my vocation as much as my location. “Jess,” he challenged me, “You need to start journaling.”
I brushed him off, rationalizing that I wrote all day long. I wrote this. I wrote that. But deep down, I knew he was right. I wasn’t writing what I had been born to write. I wasn’t writing the words God had put in my heart.
Maybe it was time for the ghost to become a girl, the spirit to become flesh.
There was a time in my life when I journaled every day. And then, a sad thing happened. And another sad thing. I stopped wanting to remember. By not writing it down, I made an escape from my reality.
“Jess,” his words echoed in my mind for weeks, “You need to start journaling.”
I had a journal. A new one, a gift from a friend.
Well, I thought, I could do it. For Gene, I could do it. Everyday. Just a line. A sentence. I could write whole books for other people! Certainly, I could write one line for myself. Certainly, I felt the Holy Spirit whisper, it is time to start remembering, the good, the bad, and everything in between.
I bit the bullet. One line.
Another day, two lines.
Months later… the words are flowing. And I am only just beginning to understand the power of words, the Word made flesh, the word that speaks life. As I submit my words, He fills my heart, as He fills my heart, the words come more easily. And He promises me that my story will be one to remember.