I am God's Child John 1:12 by Susan L.

  "But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name." NKJV
  "But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God." JCB

  I bought a paper shredder on the weekend. Mostly because I needed to destroy a whack of papers from my Uncle's house. There was a time when these could be simply tossed in the trash but with identity theft and other unwanted activities, it's safer these days to not throw out anything that has any sort of identifying info on it.
  It could have been burned but burning stacks of paper is a slow process and not always a hundred percent effective. Even ash holds shadows of ink that is legible. Paper creates a lot of large, blowing, burning pieces, too. The fire risk is the main reason why I don't like doing it.
  Once everything of my Uncle's was done, I began to work on my own stuff.
  Inside the cupboard of my bedside table were my notebooks, the journals written before I became a blogger. It was full. The floodgates had been opened the moment I came to Jesus. The quest for truth became an epic marathon of journaling that lasted years. The journals were filled with page upon page of soul baring prayer and brutal honesty.
  I'd reached the decision a while ago that there was much written that shouldn't be read by anyone but had put off buying a shredder.
  Part of me wasn't quite ready to destroy the journals anyways.
  The small, domestic use, shredder wasn't made for constant use. It would overheat and require a cooling off period. It gave me time to leaf through each notebook and pull out anything I was led to save like the poetry or stories I'd written before I got a laptop. My thought is to type up the ones worth saving and trash the rest.
  It was the ultimate letting go event of my life. As rage filled, scribbled pages were swallowed by the shredder, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. As the documented days of living in madness disappeared, I felt a weight lift off my soul. As page after page of repentance and gratitude were offered up in sacrifice, I felt a weight lift off my heart. But most of all, as I tightly tied the last, massive bag of shredded paper, I felt a weight lift off my mind.
  That was then, this is now. I am ready for a new beginning.
  I think the smell of an overheated motor will always remind me of freedom.
  I have to do one more thing. My bedroom furniture bears scars from the past. There are scratches on the dresser from my long gone, much loved, German Shepherd, Duke. Pumpkin has contributed his own claw marks. There are deep gouges on the bedside table from the day I moved from my marital home. Those are the worst. Wood filler and a coat of paint will totally erase these last shreds of what once was...
  With a shake of my shoulders and head held high I claim the promise. "I am God's child".