Pages From My Journal
My third-grade teacher Mrs. Marino told my Dad that I needed to start keeping a journal to develop my writing skills. In true “education is everything” fashion we left that parent teacher conference and went to Staples.
Every day from then on, my Dad would ask me if I’d written. It’s how the habit formed.
Inconsequential encounters often become a thread in our life’s tapestry. Almost two decades later and my journals fill boxes, my words fill their pages, I am a writer.
Read: It Is Written
Those stories are my worship. Something intimately spiritual happens when looking within to express without. Something like praise happens when I string these words together the way He created me to.
These pages from my journal are blood and veins, sinew and skin. They are to me what life is itself.
Thank God for Mrs. Marino.