But I don’t journal…

I have this amazing friend. She feels called to be a Police Chaplain within our community. Every time she goes out on a call, and I later read about the tragedy, I am left pondering, ‘How does she do it?’

She had a very difficult week, this week. Met a young girl, who in many ways reminded her of herself at the same young age. The young girl had lost her brother in a very tragic way. There was an instant connection of sorts for my friend. She felt drawn to find her a journal.

My friend, herself despises the idea of journaling and writing. Yet she felt compelled to offer this poor sweetheart a companion of sorts through writing. Yet she questioned if it would be fair to offer her a journal, if in fact this girl also despised the idea. As you can imagine, I am not the one to answer the question, ‘Is journaling appropriate for this person? This situation?’.

Imagine for a moment with me, if you will. You are 11yrs old. You lose one of your older brothers to death. You hate writing. (We are just imagining here, not sure if this is the case) Someone hands you a journal…a book with hundreds of empty, lined pages. You are hurting inside, and yet every time you open this journal, it stares back at you. Let’s just imagine you pick up a pen one day while looking at these blank pages. None of your friends understand what you go through every day. Your family was broken to pieces before the tragedy, and now shrapnel is scattered throughout the home, where once there was some semblance of unity. Coping is barely an impossibility in your house, in your own private world. You put pen to paper, and all you do is introduce yourself, ‘Hi, I am ____________.’ What do you suppose might follow these four words? ‘I am a little sister, and I miss my brother terribly’? or perhaps, ‘I hate writing, and don’t even know what I am supposed to do with this stupid thing’?…

For certain, I suppose that none of us could say what may come of the joining of the little girl, the journal and the pen. But my guess, any of us whether we hate writing or not, if we are presented with the opportunity to start….I believe that the power of journaling, would prompt us to find our own words. To share with this very private, non-judging friend. To try to makes sense of a confusing, and painful time. Poor spelling, scrambled thoughts, misaligned clarity…no matter the form, I believe the words would land safely on those blank pages. And again, my experience and belief in journaling tells me…the healing may just begin to be found.

I bless you my friend, and from the deepest parts of me, I bless and hope for this hurting family.

WriteOn my friends…even if you believe you don’t journal.