Tracking My Life

Scurrying out of Walmart with crying kids, a large pregnant belly, and a cart loaded with groceries, I was sweaty and ready to cry. Quickly, I managed to buckle up the kids and unload the groceries. I was on a mission to get out of there. Pushing the cart to the side (the open parking spot next to me), I bolted into my noisy car, relieved to head home. As I pulled out, a lady drove into the parking spot where I left my cart. Suddenly, I heard yelling and cursing and realized it was toward me. It was the last straw for me that day. I began to cry. Didn’t she know what I just went through? I was pregnant with cranky kids and exhausted. It was hard to see how inconsiderate my actions were in my desperate state; “poor me” struck hard. 

The grass always felt greener on the other side. As a girl a “poor me” personality formed and multiplied. It was subtle, and I suppose I assumed it was normal. My life felt hard. My parents split, there wasn’t enough money, and we lived in a small space, too tiny for the number of us. Everyone else seemed to have an everyday, healthy, good life. Mine was not normal and my growing victimhood starved what I needed for the life I longed for.

I’m tracking my life because I will never choose victimhood again. 

Tracking is a form of accountability—a way to live with intent. A well-lived life (which looks different for everyone) is about making intentional choices. There are many ways to track our lives, but here are a few ways it’s played out in my life from season to season.

It all began with a gratitude journal. Gratitude knocks victimhood to the ground like I’m boxing a punching bag, with each thankful acknowledgement I overcome the “poor me” syndrome. For over twenty years, early morning journals have tracked the little things I’m grateful for. Marathon running was tediously tracked as I jogged to the scheduled time and turned around halfway (with an exact plan for completion.) I use my iPhone watch to track my daily steps. I journal my food choices. My husband and I budget with paper and pen (we’ve kept charts, lists, notes, and even celebratory visuals on our finances). We write letters to each other in a shared journal to record our love, and letters to our children to record their journeys. 

We’ve logged the ebbs and flows of our fertility, and I recently read a giving tracker (writing down how we give and serve) reminds us how God is working in our lives and keeps us excited to give more. I started a giving tracker. I pray in journals, tracking my love letters to the Lord over a lifetime like he is my lifeline. 

Tracking allows us to log our days mindfully rather than absentmindedly, busily, or carelessly. Trudging along wondering why we never feel accomplished, leaving us in a “poor me” state. We’re busy like a spinning top, but it’s never the essential things we care about. Tracking guides our days…and helps us contemplate our needs. It reminds us to celebrate. We see the morning prayer, workout, and a few solid food choices written down and recognize progress. It’s not perfect (and never will be), but we’re growing, and that’s the most crucial piece.

Tracking is a form of journaling. Whether we write with pen and paper or log notes on our phone, we’re reminded that keeping track of our spending, steps, food choices, or how God works in our lives matters. It shows we care. We care about the life God has granted and gifted us, allowing him to guide our steps. It reminds us where we’ve been, what matters to us, and how to move forward. It reveals an unwillingness to quit, as if we’re documenting every challenging choice like a lawyer registers all the details of his case.

This practice may look different with each season and for each person. I no longer run marathons, so my tracking looks different than it used to. We might choose one area to document instead of multiple. God places various goals and dreams in our hearts during different seasons. Yet, whatever season we are in, we can log. As we consider small steps toward intentional living, we should keep it simple and not overthink or overcomplicate the process. Sticky notes are a great beginning. There’s no right or wrong way. 

Some days, I forget to track. A week or month will slip by as if life could slip through my fingertips, and then I remember to return to my practice because a life lived with intention is a life lived with intentional choices.

The grass is not greener on the other side and I have much compassion for my young mom self, who parked the cart in an open spot instead of returning it properly. If you see me at the grocery store, you might find me aiding a distressed young mom. Frustrating days still happen. Yet, I will never forget that victimhood serves no one. That’s why I am keeping track of my life.

In what ways do you track your life?

“The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way.” Psalm 37:23