An Attempt to Break Writer's Block

Sometimes I want to write, but I can't.
It seems my most journalistic moments occur when I am on a walk or alone in the car and far, far away from the possibility of writing anything down.
But, since this blog is kept more for the sake of honesty than journalistic endeavors, I am in luck.

Even though today is not one of my more poetic days, I feel the need to write. Because it is hard to write the first entry upon returning from a trip to Israel. Because the less-poetic days need to be recorded, too. Because if I don't write now, I just might fall out of the habit for far longer than I intended.

On some days, I seem to "wake up on the wrong side of the bed." The truth is, I almost always wake up on the same side, unless Tim has gotten up long enough before me that I've had time to unconsciously arrange my body diagonally across the entire queen-sized bed. But there are days when I am irritated almost upon waking. When I can't be pleased. I feel mean and dissatisfied and like picking a fight.

And it's nothing revolutionary, but my enjoyment in those days is the fact that I get another look at the parts of me that are Jesus and the parts that aren't. Grumpy you-can't-please-me-Sarah isn't Jesus. BUT, just like my husband (and actually on a greater scale), I know that my Savior loves me the same on my most difficult of days. It's freeing.