I must explain why the delay in my blog, yet another delay I might add. Still working on my new diary adventure. For over 30 years now I’ve been buying, collecting, reading and researching “other peoples” diaries and letters and in that 30 years I’ve been so moved and blessed by what I’ve learned. So much, that for quite sometime I’ve been looking for a way to really share the words of others. Although I can’t say right now, I believe I’m getting closer to a fabulous project that might enable me to share worldwide.
Just recently a woman asked me, “How has reading other peoples diaries affected you?” I’ve never really thought about this until she asked me and for the last few weeks have reflected on that very question. It would take me pages upon pages to really describe how this diary world has affected and also changed me. I guess if I had to sum it all up, the main thing that I have learned is that we all have a story and an important one at that. That in itself helps me to stay focused on what’s important and not to judge or criticize someone because I have no idea what they’ve been through in their life.
I just got through ready two diaries written by a 40 year old woman by the name of Hattie. She began her diaries in 1893 and I must share one of her passages…..
“September 24th, 1893. Mrs. Whitney says something like this; If one is genuinely introspective, she will not be so upon paper. I wonder if I write with the idea that someone, sometime, will read what I have written? Truly, I have no wish that somethings should be read and criticized. And I know of late it has been almost impossible to write my best thoughts, in fact, it has been quite impossible. I cannot measure my growth, if growth there be. Like a child that pencils her height from time to time on the wall, neither can I keep an account of the daily happenings in my monotonous life. They will only signify in what they make of me. Nevertheless, I have from time to time written of some actual experiences or some thought has come to me that I wished to remember; sometimes a half awakened dream or vision that may in time be fully revealed to me in all its meaning and beauty. Had I a dear, dear friend who loved me dearly and would read my journal in love, I do not think I would object. And I think hereafter I will write with that thought in mind. That I am writing to my dearly loved friend who is to be mine, manifestly, in God’s own good time, is now safe in the Lord’s knowledge and leadings, perhaps across the world or years away in time to come. Still sure to come, as we or when we are fitted for each other. “Be still and know I am God.””
Am I Hattie’s “dear, dear friend” who was “years away in time to come”? I could only hope and pray so.