My favorite way to process is by writing. It’s not just that it’s is my preferred way..it’s also the most effective.
The second best way for me to process things is by talking. Saying what I’m thinking gets it out, but it just kind of dissolves into the ether. Lord knows I have plenty of words, and once I get it out, I’m usually able to move on. Even when I’m thinking to myself, I tend to do it out loud. I think it’s the “only child” in me. When you grow up as the only child in the family, you tend to talk to no one in particular. A lot.
But it tends to not stick very well. I either need to keep processing, by continuing conversations about it, until I’ve chewed on it enough, or it just kind of goes away. Which isn’t all bad in trivial subjects, and actually really helpful in getting things “out” that I don’t need to hold on to.
But the beautiful thing about writing is that once I create something, given that I spend some time on it – such as a blog post – I think more carefully about what I’m saying, choose words that mean what I am saying, and deliberately organize my thoughts in a way that doesn’t always happen in conversation.
This “process of processing” quite literally becomes a part of who I am. Because I’ve labored a bit, I find that I can remember precisely what I wrote years later. There is a “stick-to-it-iveness” that makes the lesson learned or the memory sink in a lot better.
I think this is the reason journaling is so effective for those who have done it. I kept a journal for years many years ago. It was a sort of prayer journal, because it was this kind of processing I’m describing, except I was talking to the Lord in written form (much more beneficial than talking to myself, I might add).
I tend to be more selective in what I write in a journal because what I write takes a lot of effort in just the handwriting alone. Therefore I am FAR less tempted to drone on and on complaining about one thing or another – the effort isn’t worth the payout.
I want to write things that if I die tomorrow, my boys have something meaningful to read that helps them feel connected to their mom. What would a bunch of negative-Nancy complaints do for them? Make them put the journal down, for one thing.
I’d rather leave them with words they resonate with, but also cause them to look fondly back on their time with their mom. I want them to remember my heart, not my occasional negative attitude. That means I need to mind my actions, I do realize, but anything I write down is most likely going to be found by them one day, and will speak to them in my absence.
Lord, let my words be a blessing to them rather than a curse. Let their memory of me bring tears of joy and thankfulness for their childhood, their upbringing, and their sweet memories.
Last night, we celebrated our youngest’s 19th birthday. I can’t even begin to say what an absolute joy it was to crowd as many chairs around our table as we could fit while we shared a meal together, played games and laughed, talked over each other, ribbed one another, and then hugged when it was all over.
My heart is full and I want to process this one until it sinks deep into my soul.
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