Incriminating Evidence

I'm getting ready to move so I have started mentally preparing for the fact that I'm going to have to go through drawers. In general I enjoy cleaning out my drawers. It's satisfying and always makes me feel lighter. But there is one group of things always stuffed in a drawer that intimidate and overwhelm me. These seem to follow me around for days after I unearth them. They suck me in faster and deeper than any Facebook newsfeed binge. I come up for air suddenly feeling like I was locked in a time vortex. These make me uncomfortable and cause me shame. Sometimes they make me smile and laugh. They bring me to tears, or even sobs. Both for joy and sorrow. Or just for nostalgia. I'm working to redefine them and decide what place I want them to have in my home, but for now they continue to feel like Incriminating Evidence. Part of me wants to throw them all away. Who keeps incriminating evidence? And yet I feel like its wrong to part with them. This question of what to do with them has haunted me through every move I've made, starting when I was 14 leaving my childhood room to go to high school in a new town and a new state. They came with me, even though I was tempted to leave them behind in the name a fresh start and clean slate. Do I have to keep them even now?

They are my journals. Hundreds of pages and dozens of books. They feel cumbersome and they seem to whisper such a jumble of messages I'm not sure if I want to hear or not. Is this how I feel about the stories that make up my life? Can I keep my stories? Can I bless them? Without keeping these stacks of well worn pages? I know the covers by heart. I know which journal goes with which year, or event. Each cover goes with a mental title, but this world of my journals is a solitary place. Only I walk into it. Only I know it's twists and turns. The finality of my written word is isolating. Perhaps it's not so much the journals that overwhelm me, but the paths they construct for me to wander alone.

I think it is not so much about, "Should I keep my journals?", but more about, "What do I want to do with my stories?" I want to share them. I want to bring them to Jesus. I want to let Him unravel the shame and guilt. I want to ask Him my questions and let others study my story with me. I want to honor who I am becoming by blessing who I have been. I want to be tender to the writer of these journals, these thoughts and prayers, these questions and answers, this pain and joy, these hopes and and fears. Just as Jesus is tender with her. As Jesus is tender with me. I hear Him even now say, "These are not Incriminating Evidence, I have held nothing against you. I have loved you. I wander the paths of your story with you. I have loved you through all and never have I turned my face away. I am inviting you to sift through your stories with Me, and with those who love Me and who love you."

...but, should I keep the journals?