I've discovered that, although I sing about all glory being for God, I sometimes really want the glory for me. I want to be acknowledged and thanked. I want someone to tell me that I'm doing a good job and praise me in public. (Is anyone else thinking about Pharisees right now? I am.) There was a moment last night when I knew I would ordinarily be upset because I couldn't share in the glory, but this time I wasn't upset. And it was wonderful. Fulfilling, even.

I've decided that "be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry" is my current theme verse. There is a lot that could be said here. One of those things is that there were times when I needed to correct my girls while I was a Harvey Cedars this week. And the thing about correction is that it really needs to be done in love. Now, I know that love sometimes means giving out what people need instead of what they want, and I know that love means that sometimes I will not be liked. I am working to learn how to love people like that and not worry about being liked. BUT. There were times when I did not correct in love. I corrected out of annoyance, anger, feelings of injustice. And while my words might have been the same in love or in annoyance, the heart certainly would not have been. And life is found in the heart.

I am not sure how to write this next part. I'm a confessed "ideas girl." I come up with lots of ideas, spread them around, and many of them never come to fruition. But I'm going to risk being cliche and say "things are different this time." This time, my ideas come from what it means to be the church, what it means to love, and what is indicated as important in the Bible. I have spent a lot of time feeling like I was withering at my church. Unfed and mostly unencouraged (which I will quality as different that discouraged in that I am saying that I really did not feel very encouraged. It does seem the two are pretty close in definition). This may happen again, however, it is not enough to point out what is wrong and allow my energy and resources and emotions to be drained and then inadequately replenished. I want to do things that matter, so I need to do things that matter. I need to meet needs.

I have come up with a list of feasible ways to meet needs. I'm encouraged by that. I'm encouraged by the fact that my ideas were considered at my last Women's Ministry meeting. I'm encouraged by the fact that there are at least a few people who have some of the same desires I do. James 1:27 says, "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." Right now, I am a little fixated on the "orphans and widows" part. I am a little fixated on what I can do to "make a difference." That is another difference this time- I'm more focused on what I can do and not on what I would need a huge collaboration of like-minded people to accomplish. I am not at all against huge collaborations. But I'm not there right now.

And right now, at just before 10:00 pm, I am incredibly sleepy. So this is where I will have to end my written thoughts for the day.

Goodnight:).

Getting to Sleep

One day you will know so many strange facts about me that you will simply want to stop reading my blog in hopes of preserving your own normalcy.

Today's fact: I really have a hard time getting my butt into bed when Tim is not home. It doesn't matter that I'm tired. It doesn't matter that I have to get up early for work tomorrow. It doesn't matter that I've checked off everything on today's to-do list and I am no longer good for anything productive.

The truth is, if he came home NOW, I would get a hug and cuddle for approximately two minutes before I fell hard into dream world.

I'm thinking I have to grow out of this eventually, but it has been 1 1/2 years, and so far, no luck in that department. However, right now, I'm thinking I'll savor it. Because maybe one day, things will be different. Different can mean a lot of things, but I'm thinking that right now I'll savor the feeling that says I am enmeshed in someone else's life and things don't feel complete at this very moment. It reminds me that I am a part of something intricate and even breath-taking.

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.

I'm back from Israel.

I need to be working.
I need to be working on an application for a job I really want, finishing and sending thank you cards for my birthday gifts that I received almost a month ago, sending "we're going to israel" cards, and finishing up a few last-minute details for Stacey's wedding.

But I have this writing itch that needs to be filled because here it is:
I have a hard time with the fact that I am not perfect.
The more that I examine that statement, the more obnoxious I find it. But the truth of it doesn't lessen.

I keep a blog in an attempt to be honest and work toward transparency. I find a lot of value in telling my girls at youth group stories that highlight my mistakes. I don't try to present myself as perfect because no one can stand next to that. I tell my girls that I would rather they be honest and tell me whatever it is they were afraid to tell me, instead of telling me they have it all together, because "I have it all together" is a lie, on some level.

But.
I know that my choices effect people besides myself, and that hits me. Hard. I try to make the best choices I know how to, but decisions are not always one or the other. The "right" decision is not always so obvious like show likes Full House used to make it look. The right decision doesn't always make me feel fantastic after I make it; sometimes, quite frankly, I feel absolutely awful. Sometimes I cry.

I am obnoxiously perfectionist.
What helps is to think that I can choose any moment, including this one, and make good choices now. I can make someone else's day better right now. I can do the best I can right now.

And maybe that is enough.

Bed Time Thoughts

I'm craving a blog entry, but am not sure what to write about or even how to write it.
Right now, I feel like I am missing someone or something, but I really don't know what it is. I just have that "missing" feeling. I probably just need to go to bed. I have been a sleeping machine lately.

I've realized that I like to write most often when I am feeling challenged, when I feel tension, or am frustrated. I'm a processor, and writing out my thoughts is like therapy for me. So, for the few people that read my blog, I am a mostly dissatisfied woman. That's ok. It's ok for people to know "Blog Sarah." I've also realized I'm grateful for the tension, the dissatisfaction, the wrestling. I learn a lot through those times. I refine who I am. It's hard for me to point the correct words to it right now, when I "should" be sleeping. But. I think it goes somewhere along the lines of the idea that, if I were never faced with hardships, I might think that all of life was sweet. But I might never know what real love is, because I couldn't see what it was not. I might never be able to put my self in someone else's shoes, because I never would have been there. I might never build character because I would have little reason to.

Which is why I've become somewhat pleased with the aggravated feeling.

We Don't Serve Cake Here

I am currently in the middle of a big pitty party for one, and there is no cake, no ice cream.

This sucks.

My thinking is that writing my thoughts down might make me realize just how Sarah-centered I am being and possibly add the benefit of shaking me out of it.

I wish that I had someone who would pour their wisdom and love into me. My whole life, it seems, I've wanted a mentor. I have known incredible women, to be sure, but I've never had a mentor. And God knows that all of those incredible relationships have not been enough for me, because I want more.

(This writing thing is working, by the way.)

Which is somewhat absurd, because I have often received encouragement at the most unexpected times. But not so absurd, because the problem isn't that I feel unloved. It's that I want someone to help me wade through what it means to be female, passionate, loving, servant-hearted. I want someone to show me how to love my kids. I want someone to show me how to more easily spot needs and then meet them.

I love life. I feel passionate about living, and I take it seriously.

It gets me in trouble sometimes because I get upset about things someone else might not deem as important. It gets me in trouble, because right now, I want someone to help me learn what it means to live well, and it seems I can't have that at the moment. And that kills me because I feel like I could be doing so much better if someone would help me decide whether to turn left or right once in awhile.