Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Journals

Today is my birthday, so I was looking back through old journals. Here are some favorite excerpts:

January 26, 1997:

Ok. I have one hour left until I'm 19. I feel very contentious. I don't want to be a part of the auction on Feb 10. It's not because of the auction, it's because I'm angry and prideful and sick of it.

I need to pray.

Tee hee! I love it! I'm such a serious soul.

Here's one from high school. It kind of speaks for itself.

Feb 12, 1995:

He's a great kisser. I just wish I could kiss. Actually I wish that my knees hadn't been knocking so badly. I might have been a little bit better. I'm going to ask him to move slower next time.

I guess I'm being a bit presumptious to say next time, but I know he'll kiss me again, and if he doesn't I'll take a hatchet to his throat.

Yeah. I was a sweet little teenager.

May 31, 1991 (I was 13 and 5 ft 5)

Goal Statement:
Current weight 137
Goal weight 105
Exercise daily at 6:00-6:30am
Go swimming 3x a week.
Walk 3x a week, at least a mile.
No desserts, cut out sugary foods.

January 27, 2000 (on my mission)

Today is my birthday. I need to grow up.

This next one is a little longer. I was sitting in church trying to entertain myself, so I started writing words and this eventually just kind of spilled out of me. It's unedited, but interesting to read 7 years later.

January 20, 2002

I was just released from being a visiting teaching supervisor and they almost called me to a new position.

Turbulent, tormet, ravaged sky, roaring moon, unseen eye
Coarsing, cutting, cackling, flo
Rogues and derelicts haunt to and fro.
Like a bad song, a cacophonous chorus of dancers gallop across the veins and permeate his skull.

Faces float by, screams pierce the ears, but drown in the waves of bitter silence.
Still more faces, some old and still new ones,
A wave of nostalgia hits and in a break in the onslight--a young girl's face appears.

He recalls the day she sat aloft her father's shoulders singing his name,
how when in a daze that only comes at such incomprehensible moments,
he saw most clearly her shining eyes dance with his and she tumbled off of Father's shoulders more quickly than she should have and rushed to his arms.

Despite the calling and the vote, the embrace of this girl, the calm confidence of her embrace melted into his racing heart and he saw the vision of why.

The vision of why God is merciful.

As brothers and sisters faces pass by with hideous looks of guilt and pain, the vision of why is left before his eyes and he is able to rest in that vision.

A fallen girl, beaten down by life, with a heart racing as his had been. She was scared as he had been. Her fear washed over his heart as all the other feelings had and her pain soared into his veins and he bled for her. But oh the joy! He could calm her as she had calmed him. The blood was spent. He would not get it back. Nor should he.

A loyal follower passed in his mind and his pain became excruciating, cutting into his fingernails, one part of his body that had yet been unaffected. It caught him off guard. He fell on his face, skidding his chin in the mud.

Is it possible to feel the weight of the world and at the same time feel embarassment and clumsiness? No one was there, but he knew he was on a stage that mortal eyes could not see and that the hosts of heaven and hell were hlding their collective breaths.

In his mind's eye he had almost seen himself standing humbly, and with no sign of weakness or displeasure, h would bear the weight of his calling.

But here he was, his chin bloody and crimy, and his fear and self doubt dripping about him like his blood.

Oh Father.

Visions of why flood his mind as angels steady him.

It is the vision of why that calms his racing heart. And night piereces and flows to an end.

I'm a little overwhelmed by all the cliches--but I wrote it in Sacrament Meeting--so give me a break!

Sometimes it's depressing to see how much hasn't changed. And sometimes it's good to see how much I really have changed. I still have the same wishes, and the same hang ups--but I'm definitely better at being happy. I've allowed myself to make happiness a priority. And that's a good change.

5 comments:

Alicia said...

what a tender post! thank you for sharing your inner most journal thoughts. i might have to copy you. then again- its scary - maybe not. oh, and HaPpY bIrThDaY!!!

Miss Heather said...

It is really interesting to go back in journals and read what we wrote long ago... I think you have changed for the better. I think you're amazing and more amazing as time goes by. I LOVE YOU!

Eve said...

Thanks loves . . .I'm feeling a little shy now.

Sunshine said...

freaking awesome!!! I am totally copying you on my birthday. I would like to see some of my..uh..younger moments. Beautiful. Thanks for sharing

Ace said...

Thank you so much for sharing. I love you. And HAPPY FREAKING BIRTHDAY!