It has been far too long since I posted anything on this blog. I think, perhaps, it was a bit lofty to believe I had time to manage more than one.
But here I am. Ready to try again.
Part of the long absence was due to a long family vacation. The other part of the absence is because I am busy fighting through morning sickness--which is where the title of this post comes into play.
We all have miracles occur within our own lives. Some are large and touch the hearts of any who hear about them. Some miracles are small and are only miraculous in our own eyes. However, all are blessings from the our Heavenly Father and a reminder of His great love for each and every one of us.
I have seen many little miracles occur in my own life since we found out we are pregnant again. One, in particular, truly let me feel of that love from my Father in Heaven.
Marty had to leave our vacation in North Carolina a week early to come home for Scout Camp. I was then going to caravan up to Pennsylvania with my 2 sisters and 10 children to have Marty meet me at the airport to finish the drive home. This, to be honest, terrified me. I had no idea how I was going to cover hundreds of miles by myself when even a trip to the grocery store left me clutching a gallon plastic baggie to catch anything that may decide to come up.
Before he left, I asked my sweet husband to give me a Priesthood blessing. As the hands of my husband and my father were placed on my head and my husband spoke to our Heavenly Father in my behalf, I felt the sweet assurance that comes with faith in Priesthood authority. I was going to make it. Somehow, Heavenly Father would help me get to Pennsylvania.
The morning of the trip came. I was tired, a little queasy, and trying to remember the peace I had felt at my blessing. I packed the seat next to me with snacks, water, and baggies (just in case), and we headed out for a day of driving. The first few hours went by, and I felt okay. Better than okay. I kept nibbling on crackers and licorice and sipping on water, keeping my stomach busy and happy. By lunch I needed substance and was amazed at how a burger and french fries could make me feel so much better. The last few hours of the trip seemed to go by slowly. I was starting to lose steam, and felt a bit queasy. By the last hour I had a headache and was hoping I would not need to pull over.
By the time we got to Eva's house and I got myself out of the car, I knew that I was in for a rough night. But I remember laying in bed, afraid that any movement would send me back to the bathroom, praying to thank Heavenly Father for getting me there. I knew he wouldn't lift the morning sickness for good, but he gave me enough of a break to accomplish what I needed to--just like he promises he will.
The next day I left for the airport to pick up Marty and barely made it to his terminal without tossing my cookies all over the car. I parked, quickly kissed him hello, and buried my face in a plastic bag. I barely took my head out of various plastic baggies the whole 6 hours home. I was still amazed at how I had managed the whole day before in the car without getting sick once.
So that was my miracle. And it certainly made me feel loved by my Heavenly Father. I am so grateful that he knows each of us and answers our prayers. I am grateful for the Priesthood of God here on this earth. And I am grateful to know there is a sweet little spirit growing inside of me. How blessed we are.