Linnie Aikens Arts and Letters • HeART Haven Studios

Return to Blog–Quiet Panáche


Foggy Morning, Westmont College, Montecito, CA

 

I have 42 journals. So many times over the years, I’ve seriously contemplated destroying them; honestly, what does one do with 42 journals?...especially given my simplified lifestyle.  This morning, I think about all of those mornings sitting and writing in them and liken the experience to a not-unusual Santa Barbara day.  

 

Like the foggy, dark mornings, I begin a journal entry each day with a vague disquiet or pensiveness, like I’m sluggishly swimming in a thick soup of fog as I ponder whatever problem needs to be solved that day.  Not that my life is full of problems.  It’s not.  I have a good life, full of joys and wonder.  Yet, all of our lives have their share of daily things to work through.  Mine is no different...some more complicated than others and some less.  As I begin to write, vague ideas and thoughts drift in, answers that seem to have shadowy outlines, but no real definition or color immediately.  I keep writing...praying, actually. Journaling is often my prayer time, the time I talk to God in the quiet of the morning.

 

As I write, invariably, line, colors, shapes materialize out of the fog as the sun peaks through, just as ideas begin to formulate and solutions drift in with the morning sun spotting the landscape. These are my talks with God, and I don’t doubt for a moment that He is there -- that He is answering me.  Sometimes the fog hangs around for a bit longer, like a great grey stew, but I’ve lived long enough and journaled through many years.  I know that answers come.  They always do.  They may not be in the form I was hoping for or expecting, but I know that they are always benefitting someone somewhere.  I am only a small part of the greater part of God’s story, and I know that a no answer to me means that there’s a yes answer to someone else as a result that better effects His plan.  Over the course of several decades, I feel blessed to have been privvy much later to how an unwanted or unexpected answer’s results were used for good somewhere, in someone’s life (even my own).

 

Without the foggy mornings of my life, I would not truly be able to appreciate the clarity of a bright, clear day.

 

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