I have not always enjoyed writing.  I remember creative writing assignments in grade school and in high school made my blood run cold.  But I have found over the years that even I am a creation in progress.  I have changed with maturity.  Today, I find great pleasure in those times when I have the time to write.

Early in our marriage, I think my husband assumed his new wife would have many characteristics like his mom.  She kept a diary.  She wrote daily in her diary from the days before her marriage until her final illness.  That is a testament to a faithful, self-disciplined woman.

I tried to do that.  It worked for a few years.  But I found that I am a “wordy” person.  I don’t recount just facts, but feelings.  The diary took effort.  It did not have enough space in its pages for me to say what I wanted.  That noble effort ended.

Then the children came into our lives.  Occasionally an opportunity to perform presented itself to our family.  We could sing or speak at church, children’s Bible club, or the local care center for the elderly.  With our young children in piano lessons and their ability to sing, we made a musical contribution to our world around us.

But even then, we needed spoken words or written ones to tie our musical packages together.  That job fell to me.   I saved some of them  for future reference.

Yesterday, I found a file of some of those efforts tucked away and began to read them.  What a fun time I had reading things I had written in the 1980s, 1990s and the 2000s. I even found a Christmas play I wrote.  I laughed till I cried at things I did not even remember I had written.

The upshot of this little story is you, too, can jot down some of your quiet thoughts.  Maybe you are good at rhyming and enjoy poetry.  Take time to create pictures and stories with words.  Some day, you will be able to look back at it in review. You may get to share it with your family when they are grown.  Thoughts to ponder and humor will be tied up neatly in your writing.