What Is It About Writing?

What is it about writing, that sometimes the stories/essays nearly write themselves, and other times there's ... nothing? For awhile there, it seemed like I had tons to write about ... too much, even. I was blogging every day, something rare for me. Last week, I started writing a Sunday sermon, and realized that I had four weeks worth of stuff, so I decided to do a four-week sermon series. On Job, of all things.

But now, not so much.

Yesterday, I almost wrote about the strange smell in the morning. I walked outside, and said, “What's that strange smell?” Turns out it was the smell that an overnight rain leaves in the morning. It hasn't really rained here since last May. Once I realized what it was, it was kind of nice.... This morning, I turned on the heater for the first time this fall ... just for 20 minutes to take the morning chill off. Also this morning, when I went to let the dog out, she stuck her nose out into the pre-dawn darkness, and decided that she'd wait until it warmed up a little. And my five year-old son, waiting for the school bus this morning, realized that he could see his breath. Any of these would make a cool story. Maybe tomorrow...