Following suit with most of my journaling endeavors, I kept up with it for a couple of months and then as life turned around it fell to the wayside. My little one brought it to me this morning, urging me to "read, momma, read".
As she gleefully jumped on my bed I thumbed through the pages, letting my heart absorb the words scrawled across the the paper. I realized how important that time really was to my day -- not only to give me a chance to decompress from the chaos of life but to sit and express gratitude for the blessings I had been given, and often quick to overlook. I realized that I need to find that time again amidst the craziness.
I need to MAKE that time again.