Journaling Our Travels: 2 Examples

How do you journal your travels?

One way to do it is descriptively:

"Went to Nairobi with Jill, Nancy and Julie in a Toyota station wagon; Moses was our driver. He was tall, lean, wore a blue dress shirt and brown leather shoes that would later get a little mussed after changing the tire. We are all good companions.

Nairobi...lots of traffic--jockeying for position but for the most part, cooperation. The roads are congested; people on the side of the street, crossing the street, looking in our car. I feel somewhat threatened every time we stop--too many thievery stories from missionaries.

Patty's house...Masai guard opens the gate to a beautiful green lawn. Three houses in this compound. Her's is glorious and beautiful. Words to remember her by: photo albums, people pictures, Zambia, Land Cruiser, red kitchen walls, African fabric, loft, Karl Larrson pictures, Dixie Chicks, kindness, coffee talk, lunch on the back porch, a beautiful moment in time.

It has been good to see a facet of missionary life and how ordinary it can be."

OR it can be insightful:

"It happened on day 2 as I exited my comfortable hotel onto a street filled with men. My heart was racing—so uncomfortable, so completely other. My eyes were trained to avoid eye contact with men. Look down, I repeated over and over.

And then I saw it. There it was…beauty—roses embroidered along the bell-shaped sleeve of her black covering. I looked down a little further and noticed the color of her shoes matched the color of the roses. And there you had it—I knew it was universal: Every woman everywhere desiring to create beauty, to be known and seen.

Fashion, in my mind, is not about stuff or status but about art. Admittedly I see life most clearly through metaphor; however, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe women aren’t as hidden as I first thought in this culture. Their eyes, hands and feet are adorned. Is that any different than what I want to be most beautiful about me? Is beauty everywhere—even in the darkest places? I am beginning to believe it—but only if I keep my eyes uncovered."

Or it could be... loved to hear how you do it.

Journaling: Documenting Our Travels

Well, I am presently out of the country, documenting my travels in my journal. I will not have access to the blog for the next two weeks, so please join me on March 15-- we will pick up on the topic of journaling then.

Assignment while I'm away: Peruse your journals for a great travel entry, send it to me at editor@womenoftheharvest.com and I'll post it. I know you all have been to some very remote and seldom seen places, so please let us in on your global experiences.

I have loved your comments on "scribotherapy." Thanks for joining in.
Bon voyage! Cindy

Scribotherapy: From the Pages of One Woman's Journal

Guest Blogger: Katie Madsen is a co-worker, insatiable writer and constant journaler. I invited her to write on "Scribotherapy" (the process of using words as a conduit to understanding and feeling relief from any life difficulty) and fortunately for me, but not so for Katie, she was in the thick of it.

We write in order to heal. We hope to find solace somewhere within the lines of our journals.

In my particular case, my consolation was given before I knew I was in need of it. It was within some quiet moments one morning while listening to my friend play worship music that I penned these sporadic truths: “At the cross you beckon me, draw me gently to my knees, Lord. I am lost for words so lost in love, I’m sweetly broken, wholly surrendered... There’s no place I’d rather be than here in your arms, Lord, here in your arms... Set a fire down in my soul, Lord, that I can’t contain, that I can’t control... I want more of you... so I wait for you, so I wait for you... I’m falling on my knees offering all of me. Jesus, you’re all this heart is living for.” Have you ever been so moved by the simple truths in worship songs that you just can’t help but write them down over and over in hopes that they penetrate your soul as deep as the journal you’re carving into?

This time my soul was penetrated. My God was healing my heart on paper before I [ever] knew it was going to be broken.

That same evening, life as I knew it had turned upside down. The man I thought I was going to marry walked out on me. My heart was shattered to pieces and left [brutally] exposed. My soul had now turned to sleepless sorrow. I wrote, “Abba, I curl up in your lap now, please wrap your loving arms around me with peace and keep my gaze on you. You are my prize, my end goal, and nothing else satisfies.”

And that’s where the healing began.

It was in the days that followed that I truly began to notice the Lord wooing me to His loving gaze. He continually brought me back to the words scribbled in my journal that wretched evening.

He reminded me of His name, Abba, our intimate Father. He reminded me that he has not only rescued me but carried me through those moments where I couldn't stand on my own two feet. He reminded me that he is the true lover of my soul.

Not only that, but God reminded me of truth embedded within the pages of my journal—the truth that he so lovingly put on my heart to jot down mere hours before I realized my brokenness.

Am I unique in my journaling experience?