Each path I've navigated through the valley is unique. Naturally, there are similar elements present on each trail, much like how you may pass the same types of trees on different paths within a park. But the unique composition of details along each winding route will never be identical.

Here’s the deal. This post should be happening weeks from now, overflowing with joy and eager anticipation.This news should be shared slowly and intentionally with our friends and family, resulting in laughter and hugs, not in one blanket blog post. This isn't anything like the announcement I had planned for our third pregnancy. We’re once again begging God to let our baby stay, and we’re asking for your prayers.

It's 2020, and we could all use some hope. Not the commercialized version of hope that decorates day planners and reaches for an unrealistic future where everything is good all the time. I'm talking a wild, untamed hope that meets us right where we are, that sits at death's bedside, that is present for the diagnosis, that stands in the rubble even as the dust settles. A hope that is as much a part of us as air and rain are part of a forest. A hope that propels our spirit forward just as breath moves the body.

If hope is our foundation, well, that changes everything.

Walking through the valley has reshaped my life over the last few years. It has completely redefined faith, hope, love and grace. I'm entering into this decade having been, and continuing to be, refined by fire. Today I celebrate each beat of my heart, because friends, there is an exquisite and overlooked beauty in simply being alive.

The Ronald McDonald House Family Walk has been rescheduled for October 31st. We will still be participating in the walk and fundraising as Team Norah, but I'm going to be kicking everything off in August this year. You didn't miss anything! Our normal summer fundraiser has just been pushed back, as have so many events this year. T-shirts (and more!) are in the works and I can't wait to share!

Norah taught me that no matter what your journey looks like, moments of light will always exist.
Mom taught me to recognize those moments.
Lora taught me to slow down and give space to them, even the smallest of joys.

Friends, let us not ignore the flowers.