100th post today!!!

I can hardly believe that I have now written 100 blogs since March. The time has just flown by, and I'm not too sure that I like it so much. I wish that I could hang on to memories forever, that I wouldn't have to watch them as they sift through my fingers, only to remain a tiny rememberance in my mind. Some things that meant so much, that had such an impact on me, are only small things now. Things that I wanted to remember and hold on to for the rest of my life, all of them but a whisper in the wind. It is a wonder that more people don't journal. Being able to write at least what happened during the day, a sentence, a word, a feeling...taking a memory and making it concrete. Holding onto it, keeping what you wrote it on. Knowing that future generations have that much more to remember you by, realizing you were a real person with thoughts and feelings, much more than just a name that was given to them when they were born. It is a way to look in to the past, feel things that were forgotten about, some that were meant to stay in the past- relationships that need to be restored, people forgiven, remembering who you loved- remembering who loved you. Mistakes you have grown by, learned from. Reliving the good old days when things were normal, peaceful, full of clarity, innocent, selfless, vibrant...Remembering what God has done for you-staying with you in times of loneliness, providing everything in time of need, saving a loved one, and even taking away a loved one-He does everything for a purpose. Reading a journal is like looking into another person's soul-many are not meant to be read by others-most are not meant to be read by others for that very reason. They strip barriers, leaving people inexplicably vulnerable. Yet it is in this way that true feelings come out, when otherwise suppressed. It prepares the heart for God to work, it reveals a canvas for Him to paint on when otherwise covered. Not a physical task, yet physical, for it is to the hand, through the pen, and on to the paper that the emotions flow. They flow, and flow,and flow, unabashed at the volume of their intensity, unbiased at the minuteness of their serenity, forever flowing until the very. last. drop. Slowly the pen is put down, as the muddled thoughts from the mind were put to right on the paper, and everything starts to make sense...memories are easier to conjure when reading back through these emotion-filled pages, and that last grain of remembrance slipping through the fingers is caught, scrutinized, held on to for just a little while longer...
Love, Ashleigh