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Why I Write

 I’ve been thinking on why I write. It’s been a minute since I explained my blog’s purpose. I started journaling when I was about twelve or thirteen. I am not sure which. I was going through something and had so many words. Yet anytime I tried to talk, I was silenced. Not only did writing give me a way to get everything out, but I also found in thinking it through on the page; I felt better. With my mental illness diagnosis in the 2004, I wanted to make my journal public. How many people suffer in silence? So while not everyone wants a public journal, I do think having one is a terrific tool to deal with trauma and chronic health issues. I try to do like David in the Bible and bring things back to a positive. God is always with me no matter the circumstances. That is not  just something I say. I remembered this last week how I felt at twelve years old writing that journal. I would pray and cry  and go to sleep. I remember feel like there was this warm bubble all around me. Yes, I know that sounds weird, but I was a kid and God made sure I knew He was there. That’s all the sense I need out of it. I was just leaning into Him and letting Him do the rest. I prayed for a home that I didn’t get for ten years. Sometimes the answer takes time. As for the memories, they can still knock me over, but God. I have such victory now. He even started filling in happy memories for me. Whether you have “rest in the LORD in the power of His might,” or “Wait on the LORD to renew your strength,” He will give you what you need.

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