In other words, hi Diane
This journal has been as silent as a cemetery and as inactive as an abandoned car the past several months and the only one who has regularly commented on the inactivity is my sister, Diane. So, this one’s for you, Diane.
Often, forms of writing such as blogging grab my attention for a season. For reason unbeknown to me, my interest level ebbs and flows like the ocean.
Writing is a part of my core habits of life I need to have at least a semblance of sanity. You would think I would blog my fool head off every day after reading that last sentence. However, life has other things I must do before I can get around to writing. Ok, most of the time lately, I have to do those other things instead of writing.
Lately, I have returned to writing everything out by hand in a spiral-bound notebook. I have even returned to handwritten notes for the pulpit; a habit I started many years ago – the way Daddy did it. After losing three hours of work on a manuscript two hours before I was to preach a few weeks ago, I may never use a computer to write out sermon notes for as long as I have preach in me.
I’ve gone back to writing everything out by hand in my journals as well. The computer, complete with all its bells and whistles, seems also to have a shorter attention span than a spiral bound notebook. Henry Kissinger was a more famous handwriter who said that his head was connected to his hand in a way that a typewriter was not.
NOTE TO READERS: typewriters were used in ancient times. It was a keyboard invented by Christopher Latham Sholes(1819-1890) who took a bunch of letters, surrounded them with a bunch of metal parts. On the original typewriters, a derivative of which I used to own and use regularly, actual words were spelled out before your very eyes on a piece of paper. There was no screen or hard drive. Editing involved actual cutting and pasting the typed page. The only cursor was the typist.
Since I’ve resumed the habit of handwriting every journal entry, I’ve written an average of 10 pages a day. When I write in a blog, I seem to hear the unstated opinions that people don’t really have a lot of time for reading other people’s blogs, so that seems to limit me in many ways.
Usually, in the handwritten journals, I’ve written about yesterday. Often, there is a commentary, some Bible thought, but for the most part, I’ve just been simply remembering, recounting, and rehearsing yesterday’s stuff that happened. I do this sort of thing to help me shake the bad vibes out of my head I usually wake up with, work through the bleary-eyed grogginess I feel when I first wake up, and help me see yesterday wasn’t so bad after all. So, it seems to work.
Writing everything out, in full sentences and paragraphs, helps me understand yesterday in a way that speaks simply, as accurately as possible, and gives me a little more hope for today. All the things that happened yesterday weren’t so bad after all and maybe today won’t be so bad either. I usually do not encounter burning bushes and the directions to the Damascus Road don’t always lead me into a blinding-light experience with God. But, I do encounter my family, their lives, my church, and the stuff that is going on in and around the area known as my mind and somehow, God’s there in all of it.
I have thought of either just typing out all these pages in this blog or maybe just mailing them to my dear sister Diane, who has wanted me to resume this journal writing on a more regular basis. Since you, Diane, have been reading them more than anyone else, maybe I’ll let you read them when you come back to Cleveland in a couple of months. I’ve been writing stuff since around 4:30 a.m. and now it’s nearly time to start mowing the grass. But, first, I think I’m going to eat a little and maybe have a nap. See you soon.
