Howdy there you wonderful, little, journal reader. I oft wonder why this is called the journal and not "read Carl's private thoughts". I have another journal that's full of stuff I think about, but it's all on paper and even has drawings. I like pictures and try to make the whole presentation interesting. I am a little crazy, but sometimes I write in there thinking about the time when others will read it after I die. That sounds a little morbid, but it ain't all bad to write with the end in mind.
If it's on paper or just in the memories you leave, your life is a journal. A weathered, old, well used record of who you were, how you thought and what was important to you. Every page is filled with the work of your hands, the gifts of your heart and the names of lives you changed. For better or worse and good or bad, like it or not, your journal is on display for the whole world to see. They can read it every day, see it behind your eyes and for most of us it might as well be put up on the internet. Jesus said in Luke that from the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. A man produces good out of the good things stored up in his heart and bad out of the bad things stored up in his heart." Think about that and ask God to fill your heart.
It's no secret that one of my uncles was a notorious person, with numerous jail terms accenting a life of crime and corruption. I was present at the rainy, grave side funeral where I heard the preacher speak these words. "This man has already preached his funeral with the way he lived. Now what are you going to do with the rest of your life. What are you going to do about Jesus?"
Think about it. How does your journal read. What kind of funeral are you preaching?
peace and joy, Carl
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