I don't have a purpose. Or do I?

Recently I've been praying really hard to find out what my "calling" is in life. I want a "purpose," a clear direct path to wake up for each day. When I was in college, I assumed I was studying to become a doctor of some sort, thinking I would be practicing medicine until the babies came, but when it came time to apply for grad school, I didn't feel right about it. I didn't further my formal education in that way. After graduation I moved to Alaska where I coached ice skating part time and found satisfaction in that.

We've now lived in Kansas for one year. This past spring I was looking into massage school and starting there, only to have the owner of the school ask me to teach one of their night classes because he was impressed with my application. There again, although I wanted to accept, I didn't feel right about it and declined, only to find out the next day that I was pregnant. I felt like it was an answer to why I didn't feel good about the decision the night before. Everything felt right.

I miscarried one week later.

Six months later we found out we were expecting another little angel, but I miscarried one week after our first ultrasound.

As I watched my friends have their babies around the same time I was to have my first baby, I had to push away my grief and pain. I tried celebrating with them by going to their showers and taking over dinner. I am so happy they have healthy and beautiful babies. Now I watch as many of my friends and cousins announce their babies who are due the same time as my second one would have been born. It is really hard for me.

So I pray to know what to do, and peace washes over me. But it only does when I allow it. Funny how that works. Recently I have been feeling a great need to really serve my fellow sisters here in my town. Not sisters in blood, but sisters in spirit. My schedule may fluctuate and I may not have all the finances in the world to do huge things, but I have a desire and a heart.

The Lord didn't bless me with being the "best" at anything. And sometimes I struggle with that. But He did bless me with a loving heart and a desire and a great work ethic. That's something to be happy about.

So when I see that a dear friend has been sick at home with herself and her son, I know I can take her lunch. I am able to team up with another lady and we can make a fresh pot of pozole stew with fresh cilantro and lime. We can give a hug and some happy conversation and lighten up her day, even if just by a little.

And that--love and service--is something to be happy about.

When it seems like others are better at everything, try (for it often seems so very hard to do) to recognize what you are good at. Maybe you wiped a tear off of someone's face today. Maybe you sent a thank you card. Maybe you helped a little girl with her homework until late at night because her mom was at work. I have to remind myself that it is not recognition from the world that truly matters. What truly matters in the end is recognition from God.

I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.

-Mother Teresa

Hoping for a Rainbow

I'm really not sure if I ever thought this day would come. The day that I made it past 13 weeks pregnant without losing the baby. #miracle. I know I am not out of the woods yet, and honestly, when are we really? I am just trying to live every day with gratitude for the life inside of me, living with hope for the future. Part of me wanted to wait until next week, when I was past 14 weeks and officially in the 2nd trimester, but I couldn't wait any longer. I've been getting a little thick in the middle, which is getting more difficult to hide, and I feel like I haven't been able to be completely honest with friends when they would ask, "how are you doing?" All I wanted to talk about was how nauseous I was or how nervous I felt. So now, the news is out, whether or not you already suspected something was up. Seriously though, the 1st trimester is not for the faint of heart! There were many instances when I thought I would lose the baby, but dee...

Grandpa is Always Right | Gender Reveal |

I was hanging out in our rental apartment in Salzburg, Austria with my sister when my dad walked out of his bedroom and announced that I was having a girl. I was only 11 weeks along at that point and while I was wishfully hoping for a girl, I was preparing myself for a boy. His strong conviction of the gender of our child without any hints from an ultrasound surprised me. My dad seems to always be right about things, so I secretly hoped he was right this time too. Today during my scan, my favorite sonographer announced that we were having a girl. Grandpa is always right. I never imagined our family starting with a baby boy. I don't know why, but a baby girl seems to fit just perfectly. Now I just have to keep calm and stay healthy for 19 more weeks.

Learning to Speak Like an Alaskan

Denali in the background No one wants to feel like a newbie, so a common practice before traveling to a new city or country is to learn the language of that particular place. Well, when my Aunt Joan picked me up from the airport last December when I first arrived in Alaska, one of the first things she told me was if I didn't want to sound like a tourist, I needed to refer to Mt. Mckinley (the tallest mountain in North America, located some 120 miles south of Fairbanks) as Denali . Denali is the native Athabaskan name for the mountain, and means "The High One." So, from day number one in Alaska, I refered to that majestic mountain as Denali instead of the name I had learned growing up. This is just about what it looked like yesterday morning! Another thing I learned recently is how to say the temperature. I was saying "Gosh it's cold outside because it's negative 30 degrees." But luckily, a kind skating mom...

Tender Mercies

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