As much as I’d love to journal, I just don’t have the patience to do it these days. My mind flies away so fast, I can’t sit still and reflect without feeling guilty.
Also, most of my old journals never see the light of day once they are stored away.
I decided to do this journal right here on my blog so that I can just open with a click and look back on my thoughts.
I usually leave goals behind, mostly because I forget about them as I’m consumed with other worries in life. But I hope I can finish this journal by Project Love.
Shoutout to the love of my life, Hermes, thank you for being here and reading this. ☺️
Last night I was reading a heart-warming novel entitled, “Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen”, and this passage stuck with me.
The protagonist’s best friend, Lolly, has struggled with emotional abuse from her mother, Mrs. Dempsey but for her eighteenth birthday, she was given a beautiful vase from her mother. The protagonist reflects upon this.
Turns out, Mrs. Dempsey does love Lolly. I mean, she sure doesn’t love her right, but in some small or strange way, that woman sitting on that faded old sofa loves her daughter enough to save what little money she has to buy her something as beautiful as that crystal vase.
Daddy said you can see the devil in people’s eyes, but maybe the devil is nothing more than the sadness they carry around inside of them, bottled up so tight that it comes out as pure ugliness, like it does with Mrs. Dempsey. And maybe my own mama was too filled with sadness to love Martha Ann and me right. Maybe she wanted to be up on some stage so badly that she couldn’t figure out a way to make herself happy without it. And maybe that’s the way it is sometimes, that there are some mamas so filled with sorrow that it’s better that they leave the mothering to somebody else. I needed to see my mama’s eyes.
That helped me to offer sympathy to those people close to my heart that I wish could love me right.
I realized that just because they don’t love like I do, doesn’t mean they don’t have an ounce of love for me.
Maybe they have too much sorrow in their hearts, and so they don’t know how to love right.
But I’ll take whatever crumbs of love I receive, knowing it’s given with sincerity and a broken heart.
Life With Rachel 