In rereading what I was thinking nearly eight months ago, I see my plan, intentions and desires. In the lack of entries between then and now, I see a personal truth. I am not a natural journal-writer.
I recently wrote about how little I've changed in 40-some years. In the writing I focused on how much time I still waste, and my continual tendency to procrastinate. Ironically, I've been quite consistent in both those things for decades, and yet inconsistency is emerging as one of my less desirable traits. Apparently my ability to be consistent is limited to areas I perceive as negative: Being judgmental. Seduction by material things. Procrastinating. Wasting time. Eating for reasons other than hunger. The list grows the longer I think about it.
Today I begin again. It may take awhile for this project to grow into whatever it's supposed to be, but God won't give up on me.