Prayer Journals and Unresolved Themes

I like to write. 

I like to write blog posts. 
I like to write encouraging notes. 
I like to write novels in November (for NaNoWriMo of course). 
I like to take notes during lectures and sermons (because my distracted self needs help focusing and remembering things).

And I like to write out prayers -- because my distracted self needs help focusing and remembering things. 

I have a small collection of prayer journals from the past few years. 

It's a beautiful view into the chaos and peace from my last semester in college, to learning I was going to Ghana, to Ghana, to home, to Eastern Europe, and to back home. There are notes from team retreats, information received from wise women and my thoughts processing said information, Bible study notes, Harp and Bowl prayers, sermon notes, messages from dear friends, lists of gifts to be grateful for, peaceful prayers, middle-of-the-night-my-life-is-falling-apart-and-I'm-beyond-confused prayers, and everything in between.

Last night, after talking individually with two sweet friends about one of the themes from those prayer journals, I dug out the oldest, green, stickered one. And I started looking at the beginning of that single theme, trusting that some prayers have been answered while knowing many have yet to be answered. 

Making my way to the second, colorful, patchy prayer journal, I saw repeated prayers addressing this sole theme: confusion, asking for fulfillment of desires, seeking closure, waiting, begging for my desires to immediately change, fear that nothing in this will ever change, and finally surrender. All over that one issue. Over and over and over again. It just kept popping up. And it all continues into the purple notebook, and the half-filled tram notebook.

Although bits and pieces of me have changed these past few years as I've grown in knowing and following Jesus, the prevalence of this one theme hasn't changed. My questions haven't changed; although bits and pieces have, the ultimate question is still there. 

Part of me can't stand that. I want closure. I want a pretty, yellow bow to be placed on this. Finished. Move on. 

My raw emotion prayers make that one obvious. God knows that I want closure. I want answers. I have made that overwhelmingly clear. 

Even though there are a few peaceful prayers with me being okay with waiting and trusting that God is moving somehow in this theme, there are way more middle-of-the-night-my-life-is-falling-apart-and-I'm-beyond-confused prayers. In those moments, I strongly request a phone call, a text, an email, a conversation that will give me an answer. In those moments, I care more about receiving any answer rather than what the answer actually is. 

In those chaos prayers, I start off feeling like life will be incomplete without an answer. But by the end of the prayer, God helps me see that waiting is good. That he is good. That not knowing today is good. And although there's confusion abounding in my mind, I gain peace. I can sleep. My life is not falling apart. 

Because my God is good. This long, drawn-out theme is teaching me that. God is good, and his timing is good. He provides. He is faithful. And I have hope (read: a confident expectation) that my ultimate question will eventually be answered. This theme will be resolved. A bow will wrap up this messy package, even if it's not a yellow one. It may not be the way I want it too happen, but redemption will occur. And good things will continue to happen while I wait. I will be further sanctified while I wait. 

Romans 5:1-5 says [The Message paraphrase, emphasis added]

By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus. And that’s not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise.

There’s more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we’re hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary—we can’t round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!

 I wouldn't exactly call my experience wrestling with this theme being "hemmed in with troubles." However, I do know that this is developing passionate patience in me. It's keeping me alert to see what God will do next (regarding this theme and so many other things). And in this confusion, I am learning more and more that God is not shortchanging me. He is pouring so much into my life, and this life I live (even in moments of confusion) is full of greater blessings than I would have dreamed of when those prayer journals were empty.

And so today, I wrote a peaceful prayer, acknowledging that this is good. That I don't need to take control and seek out my own answers. I am content looking to God for answers and waiting for the time that he deems to be the time for answers. 

And during my next middle-of-the-night-my-life-is-falling-apart-and-I'm-beyond-confused prayer, I'll be able to look back to today's peaceful prayer and acknowledge the truth of God's goodness, faithfulness, and provision.

Have you ever used a journal to write out your prayers? What are your thoughts on it? (Really, I do want to hear your thoughts!)