Adventuring With a Paper Map

I have kept journals off and on for most of my life. Mostly because I am an external processor; but also to remember. Seeing yourself daily is so much different than viewing photographs. Journal pages provide a glimpse of the journey, sign posts of the achievements, and warnings to the pitfalls.

A few days ago, I decided to go through old journals. I pulled out the tote and began looking through each one. Near the bottom, I found a journal from over a decade ago. It was only partially written in. A few frustrating days of scribbles.

Years-old lies I wish I could say weren’t still circling my thoughts. The girl who wrote them down didn’t know that she didn’t have to believe them.

I picked up the black spiral notebook. A plain cover, but brimming with extra bits of paper and notes. This journal had been through tears, anger, joy, wonder, and so many emotions. Every page was covered in writing top to bottom; even the margins were filled. My warfare book, my “before and after” season. It tells a story of life and healing, years of depression, lies, struggles, frustration, victories, encouragements, and perspective.

One page, August 2018, caught my eye as I flipped through…

It is a list of “crazy thoughts” from the year I decided to confront the Lord about my health and depression. 

This list of lies that I believed were not that different from those in my older journal.

“Lord, will I ever not be fighting this insecurity?” 

What came to mind was a Stanford University study on the brain. The study showed that the brain doesn’t see accurately all the time. They even give an example to try. You can try it here if you like! On the page, there is a stationary dot, and a ball on the screen moving up and down. When you focus on the dot, the ball appears to traveling up and down at a diagonal. If you focus on the moving ball; you see that it travels up and down.

I felt the Lord speak softly, “Your experience is very much based on how you feel and what you are experiencing at the time. You just don’t have an accurate perspective. When you are judging yourself harshly, your perspective of the past changes. You think all of a sudden “I’ve always been insecure, so I always will be.”  When you are celebrating a win it changes to; “Look at the things I have overcome” Your vision is unreliable because you are looking at the wrong thing”

I felt the truth wash over me and sighed while I looked through more journals. As I flipped through the pages, I remembered things here and there, and saw the narrative change from “I’m not enough” to “I am who God says I am.”

Same issue, but the authority to speak. Then a dark season, followed by new affirmations and declarations. 

What started as a look back at my failure and inability to learn a concept became a beautiful picture of hills and valleys. 

“If my thoughts are against me, my feelings will be too.” — November 2018

Bits of advice collected from wise friends began to replace angry and lost narratives. 

“Have you considered that you need to repent of disregarding the hope of Jesus?” December 2018

“Don’t fall into the narrative— doesn’t count, I can’t, I’m trapped. Stand on the paddle board and find your balance.” –July 2019

My wandering trails became intentional hikes with purpose. 

Prayers became more frequent, as well as favorite Psalms and self-pep talks:

—“You learned something here!”

—“Don’t worry about what you see as lost when you haven’t seen what God was growing”— August 2019

Paul tells us that he is not even equipped to judge himself. Why is it that we always think that what we are going through is more real than what God says about it? It feels REAL and raw, and open. It feels like I am emotionally bleeding out, and I reach out to God– but I don’t want what He has. I want what I want.

I judge where I am, and what I do. What others do or don’t do. And yet here it is–Paul saying, “I shouldn’t even judge myself” Only the Lord can see the whole map and where we are going. We cannot let our perspective trump His truth.

It is so easy to get trapped by what we perceive as fact. The memory “I was here” from a decade ago in my journals. A comment from a friend about what we “always do.” History can feel like deep ruts in the road that make it impassable. The ink on the pages can be used as condemning evidence.

As painful as it can be to look back, I am very grateful for the journals that have become the trail on the map. I may have taken wrong turns, but I have memories of those places and a story to tell.

I have seen the Lord gently pour out His loving reminders over the hard ground until it was soaked up. Sometimes the same reminder was sprinkled over years before I “heard” it. 

He always repeats with love and patience more times than I speak the negative. He is so kind. 

I wouldn’t see any of this if it wasn’t written down. My perspective would remain narrowly focused on the present issue at worst, and looking back with new information at best. 

My eyes are not equipped to keep up with the full image; they are equipped to keep the trail guide, the Father, in sight at all times.

This Adventure has taken me places I never meant to go. My heart has broken so many times I wanted to backtrack to the car and drive home. I’m glad that I pressed on. I have seen so much more than I ever thought possible. Like looking at a paper map with the intended route marked out—and the new trail scratched in. Muddy, water streaks and folded in new ways— it doesn’t look the same but it holds memories of the journey.

Looking back with the Lord provided a solid reassurance I didn’t expect. 

“Look where we’ve been.

I haven’t missed a moment.

Keep hiking with me.” 

____

This is a promise spoken over me in a hard time. If you are in the valley— you can trust that you are not alone.

“I know your heart is heavy and you feel uncertain. Be sure of this: I hold your hand. I’ve gone before you. You only asked for what you are feeling I called you and created you for. You can ask for more. You are not an orphan. You are adopted. So much is available for you even in the difficult times. When the lies come— remember what I named you.”