When I found out the date for my son’s dedication, I decided that I should sing for it. I did for my other two, so I owe it to him as well. The only problem being that I have not been able to sing since January when I suffered multiple, bilateral pulmonary emboli, followed by a pulmonary infarction. I had clots in my lungs which later caused tissue death. I lost most function in my left lung. That coupled with living in the mountains made what seemed so simple seem like such an accomplishment. I decided to sing “Breath of Heaven” by Amy Grant. That song helped me endure all of my ailments while I was pregnant. I thought of Mary and her struggle while traveling for the census. I thought of the fact that she was chosen to be the mother of God and had to deliver our Savior in a smelly, unsanitary manger. She had to completely trust the Lord and she made it through, just as I. I sang that song as a testimony to surviving the most difficult pregnancy imaginable. For six months every day was a constant struggle to keep my baby and me alive. I found out later, that a dear friend heard the song in Wal-Mart while getting the flowers for the dedication. It was meant to happen. I found my purpose. That is how I learned how to live. You do what it is that you were meant to do. You do not let a setback, no matter the size conquer you. I got on that pulpit and sang to the full capacity of my 1.2 lungs. Yes, it made me lightheaded, yes I was huffy for ten minutes afterward as if I had run three miles. Had I known would I have still done it? Yes. You cannot let life kill you. Death on the inside will lead to your demise. That is what happens when you stop living. You will not get out alive anyway, so do, don’t just be.