Sometimes I am scared to write things in my journal; and I think writing in the public journal is even scarier. In all honesty, I don’t really mind people reading about my private thoughts. I don’t think that’s really such a big deal. I figure that I shouldn’t have anything to hide. The more transparent I am, the more I am accountable to everyone. But the reason why I am scared is because my journal entries are often point-blank indictments. A friend once said of me, “Don’t take anything Brian says seriously; he’s so fickle!” That really hurt. But you know what? It’s true. It is really true. I am not so much a liar as a confused person. One week, I am absolutely fired up about something, and the next, I couldn’t care less. What’s wrong with me? And in that passion, I make commitments and decisions, usually ones that I don’t follow through on.
And so I write, in fear, because I may write something that will come back and haunt me, not because it was evil, but because I didn’t do it. I am really scared. I’m scared because you will realize how much of a phony I am; that I really have very little in me to show for the stature I’ve been given as a “spiritual leader”. I’m scared even more, because if this is who I am, God, what can you do with me other than spit me out of your mouth?
And yet I write. I think maybe because if I don’t write it, I will, for sure, not do anything at all. I will barely even think about it, let alone make vain commitments. And I think I write because I need an audience, to entertain, to listen, and to keep me accountable. This journal is my cry of fear and longing…longing to be heard.