9.23.12 On a rough day...

...far, far away deep in the crawlspace of your life lies a box. It's been open a time or two, it's not completely worn out. In it lies spiral journals, every shape size and color. They are not in any order, although through the years you've tried. You would have liked them to be the same shape, size color, dated neatly and one for everyday of your life, good or bad. But they're not, and now you realize, that's okay. This adds character and personality. Some entries have scriptures, some have curse words. Some are sermon notes, very little other than words you wrote either a year ago or ten years ago. No pictures or momentos, just words flowing from your mind and your heart. What ever did inspire you? Sometimes a conversation, sometimes a prayer group. Sometimes no conversation led you to that journal, simply because you had words to say and no one to hear right at that moment. So you wrote and filled the pages. Underlining important parts, filling your mind with information for later. Sometimes that later was later that evening, sometimes later that week. Sometimes later wasn't until now. You walk over and open the box, I remember this box. I have seen it, carried it from house to house. It has traveled with me. I know that the spirals will be facing out. I know that some were gifts from only closest friends and family who knew I journaled. But this time, right there on top lies a little photo album. My high school album. Filled with pictures from my senior year and the summer after. I pull it out and carry it up to my room, and laugh and laugh and laugh! From the crazy outfits and hair to the smiles on each page. Most pages have my own picture on them and I realize I loved myself before I knew what a great person she is. And I send photos to my sisters and laugh. Tears roll and I laugh, so on my next rough day, I know I have an option. I have the option to search for the "mom jeans" and the smiles and the laughs of a little photo album held in a box full of journals and words.