I write in a journal and I write in a journal everyday.
And I've written in a journal every day since January, 1985. It's kind of a thing I do.
Today I was thinking about the time I was a missionary for my church. This is happening more and more because I've got a son who's accepted a call to serve a mission of his own. I wondered what I was doing on this day back when I lived in Denmark 28 years ago. I went over to the bookshelf, pulled out of of my mission journals and read what happened.
On the 6th of December 1985 I spent the day in the mission office. At that time I was a secretary assigned to the mission president. I spend five hours writing four letters. I was in charge of completing much of the mission correspondence.
A couple of sister missionaries dropped by the office, Sisters Baker and Magnusson (missionaries were always stopping buy...).
I watched a video of the King Singers and thought it corny.
At night we checked some contacts and ended up visiting a gentleman we called "The Herr" in Ballerup (I can't remember him at all...) But I did call him a "hygge monster." I'm sure he was. We had dinner at The Saigon Grill, went home and chatted with some other missionaries (they were not identified...), then went to sleep.
It's not earth-shattering information. In fact, this may be the first time I've read that entry since I wrote it. I've only re-read a few entries over the years. But, if I ever want to know what I did on the 6th of December 1985, or 1992, or 2007, or 2013, all I have to do is take the correct journal from the bookshelf and read.
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