8 Months

It's so interesting how trials shape who we are. Whether or not we want them to. Will we allow those trials to help mold our characters, our selves into something stronger, more beautiful, more interesting, more enlightened, more wise? Or do we fight against those trials and become instead hardened, and bitter, and angry, and ugly? I think it is an ongoing battle of our human selves. To let go, and let God, or to kick against the pricks. Clearly, the better way is the first way.

Today as I was driving by the cemetery that we have here on our little city I yearned to stop and take a little walk and run to the store real quick to pick up some flowers to leave on some sweet soul's grave. I wanted to stop and take a breath and ponder about life, and death, and spirits and heaven. And cemeteries, I think, are a good place to do that. But, I glanced at the thermometer on the car that read 108 degrees and sighed and thought to myself, not today.

I've also been wanting to do some service. I've been meaning to call the nurses at the hospital that I delivered Luisa at to see if there is something that I can do, or donate to help them with the service they do with their Baby Loss Committee. I really hope that I can do something. I often think about those sweet ladies. I think of them as earthly angels to me. I think that when I think of them I will always feel a swell of gratitude in my heart for the kindness they gave me.