Miracles happen every day. Some people merely brush them off as simple coincidences that compile their daily activities. Other people acknowledge the miracles and use them to give hope and reassurance. Sharing our life stories, our experiences, is a part of keeping health alive among the generations to come. Without the words of wisdom and the stories from our forefathers our lives wouldn’t be as enriched and blessed as they are today. So, this week I’m not going to give you any piece of advice on exercising or diet, but I’m simply going to tell you the story of my latest life miracle.
I’m a Christian. I believe in God, and I’m proud of that. I believe in divine intervention and the interactions of heavenly beings in my life. Sometimes I get frustrated with God when things don’t go my way. In fact, I get downright mad! That was the case just a few weeks ago before I gave birth. Each week, Wednesday would roll around and I would find myself at the doctor’s office for my weekly ultrasound and exam. And every week was the same news: the baby looks great, and your body isn’t ready to be induced (meaning my cervix wasn’t dilated).