Dear Diary

I really like Rabi Daniel Lapin. Today’s email blast struck a chord on something I wanted to just mention an idea on.

I used to keep a diary. Trust me, it was a scary thing. I’m terribly embarrassed by it, now and have thought of creative ways to destroy the volumes of terrible emotional venting. I also wish that I had kept a journal or diary over the past ten years because so much growth has occurred during that time and some of the wisdom acquired has been lost. I have a terrible memory that serves me as well as an Applebees waiter on Sunday.

So today I’ve felt mostly down. When asked what’s wrong, the only response I could come up with that didn’t incriminate against myself was “I’m not living up to my potential.”

That statement in itself is true and generic enough to let people derive their own conclusions. Life, work, marriage, fatherhood, worship, leading, following, you name it.

Sometimes it feels good to be emotionally drained. It leaves more room for the happiness in the days that follow.

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