Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Scribbles - Day 13

Hidden among my own scribbles in my journal there are markings not made by me.  Imposed over my words are drawings and letters, words and lines written in the hand of others.  Along the margins on many pages are letters shaky in their formations, spelling out an idea that only a child's mind can fathom.

My name is imprinted across the cover, but it's inside where the love and hope and joys and cheers, where the fears and hurts and tears mingle to paint a picture of the heart of me.  These are the parts of me that only one other truly knows.  I pour the words out in ink or lead in an attempt to make sense of all I feel and think.

Although the journal belongs to me, my children have felt compelled to insert themselves into it with me.  Oh how annoyed I felt that first time I noticed the markings and scribbles.  I felt as though a part of me had been exposed and handled carelessly.  Turning the pages, I came to the back cover where I found this:

I realized then that they weren't defacing something of mine; they were sharing something of mine.  They understood that this book was mine to write in and capture my thoughts because we had talked about it.  I had explained why I wrote in my journal and had encouraged them to do the same if they wanted, giving them journal books of their own to doodle or scribble in.  But even still, they wanted to share what was mine.  I have a well founded suspicion that all of them have written in it.

Now as I reread the words I've written, my dreams are forever intertwined with these amazing little people in a tangible way.  When I see their childish lines and letters, I treasure even more the input they add to my dreams and thoughts.  It warms my heart that they so desired to be a part of me, a part that they saw was important to me.

I want to teach my children so many, many things.  I hope they remember me writing in my journal, sitting with pen in hand recording my dreams.  I want them to see every area of my life as an example.  I want them to know the value I placed on doing something that was important to me.  I want them to know it's okay to do something just because you want to, not just because it makes sense.  I want them to follow their hearts and be the best people they are made to be.

Click here to see the rest of my Write 31 Days series:  Simple Gems


  1. "they weren't defacing something of mine; they were sharing something of mine" This is so beautiful!!!!

  2. my Grandmother wrote every day in her journal..if ever you needed to know when exactly something happened including sicknesses, births, deaths, what they did that day, who visited and what the weather was doing...you just called Grandma she knew. I once asked her about them and she said anyone could look in them...there isn't anything bad...just what happened that day..when she passed my Aunt took them, I really hope she knows what a treasure she has...Keep writing your journal...you have inspired me to go and get myself one too!

    1. oh, you really should do it! I'm not one to do it every day all the time but I wish I did.

      My dad has kept a diary like your grandma including the weather, where he was working and life events. I often see all the books lying out and know he's been reading back through. Every once in awhile he asks "Do you remember what happened on this day _ years ago?" It's always a fun challenge to see if I can remember. They are wonderful treasures of our history.


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