Dirt

Nothing makes me feel grosser than cleaning apartments before you have to move out. A year's worth of filth stares at you...taunting. I hate cleaning. Absolutely hate it. Not only am I surrounded by grossness, but it brings out the grossness in me. I turn into either this crazy barking obsessive jerk that likes to yell:) or I just fume, angry at myself and everyone around me for not cleaning earlier. And I hate being angry:) It definitely reminds me of my faults...which in the long run is good, but in the moment I completely hate it.

But...let me tell you what I love. I just got back from the redwoods...after talking about it for a year I finally went. And those trees are everything I had hoped they would be. Now I love trees:) It's in my blood I think. And looking at things so bigger than you really remind you how small you are. But it's so pretty, you don't feel insignificant: just small. I hope I can see God in the rest of my life as much as I see Him in those trees.
Sarah