With these thoughts in mind, I gave my children notebooks last night along with pens, and asked them to write. A, my 2 1/2 year old girl, drew a few squiggles and declared, "That Me, Mama!" My twelve year old son, T, wrote about the quickly approaching move to middle school. They wrote about where they are, now. Someday, I know they'll look back and be grateful to have these words. The reason I am so sure of that is the fact that this was the summer their father moved into his own apartment. They've been through a lot, and I assume that they will continue to go through a lot. I want them to have a record of the fact that they made it through. It will be a wonderful thing for them to look back and realize all of the blessings that we had, even through the difficulties. I hope that they'll be able to look back and see the loving hand of the Lord the way I have in my own life. I can't think of a better gift that I could give them. It was one of the best Family Home Evenings we've had.
Friday, August 1, 2008
My journals have meant a great deal to me through the years. I remember my parents sitting us down for Family Home Evening when I was 10, giving us notebooks and pencils and asking us to write. I never stopped. I've kept excellent journals since that time. Admittedly, some of the entries from my early teens are painfully overwrought with gushing emotion. My Dad told me once, when I complained about the teenage me I saw in my journals, "Why should you be embarrassed about having been completely normal?" That changed my thoughts on it forever. My journals have also enlightened and blessed me as I have gone back to look over certain stages of my life, especially my adult life. I am a very positive person, but even I have often allowed disappointments or sadness to cloud memories of certain times in my life which upon looking back through my journals were more filled with happiness than I remembered. Among the things I have forgotten are often fairly important details which clarify and refine my memories, always in positive ways. Journals serve to remind us of small blessings and triumphs when those things might otherwise be lost forever.