See also: Why I Love My Life (Even When It's Hard)

Recently, someone asked me if I would consider myself happy, in general. I didn't even have to think about it. I consider my life the best life possible and I love it! Now, if you think that means I've had an easy life, then let me add a little to that story.

In the last year, the Lord has taught me so much about prayer. Partially, this has been through the influence of a fantastic book, A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller. I've heard a lot of sermons about the importance of prayer and, mostly, they've been simultaneously inspiring and guilt-inducing. "Yes! I will pray more! ... How do I do that?"

Mr. Miller's book has been refreshingly honest and practical. As a result, I've learned a few things along the way that I'd like to share with you.

Note: If you are a mother who struggles with fear, please know that these thoughts are intended to encourage you, not condemn you! May you find powerful support and uplifting in His family.

Just three months after I miscarried my first pregnancy, I discovered that I was pregnant a second time. Two emotions hit me at the same time: joy and fear. Joy, because we were ready to start a family. Fear, because I did not want to miscarry again.

Three years ago, I posted "6 Ways to Know if He's Worth It." I posted it just after I had met the man I would eventually marry, even though I had no clue at the time. My future still seemed very single to me.

Now, with almost two years of marriage to Paul, I want to reprise this discussion, because I've learned a few things about healthy marriage--nuances that I wouldn't have even known to pray for in my future husband, that I am now so grateful​ God knew I needed.

One of my big missions is to inspire single women (in particular, but not exclusively) to identify and develop their unique gifts within the church. But I already hear a lot of single women asking, "What if I don't have a gift?"

Actually, you do. You've just bought into an incorrect definition of "gift." The real definition is super simple.

When Josh Harris--author of I Kissed Dating Goodbye, a book that contributed to the "purity culture" of my generation--publicly admitted that he was not proud of some of the directions that the purity culture had taken, I thought, "This might be a good thing. We might be able to have an honest discussion now about some of the purity culture's difficulties."

My hope turned to dismay when, recently, I learned that Josh Harris and his wife are divorcing and Josh no longer identifies as Christian. The purity culture discussion was just becoming another opportunity for #exvangelical and "deconstruction" advocates to rally.

But I still want to have the discussion and tell my own story of growing up in the purity culture--the good and the bad. So here goes.

Recently, my husband and I have been scouring through our marriage "garden" for weeds. Our marriage is fantastic; we've never argued and any disagreement has developed as an illuminating discussion, not a clash of wills. However, as we've read through Vertical Marriage by Dave and Ann Wilson, we've discovered a few weeds in our garden. They're not full-grown--we were barely aware of them--but we recognize their potential to take over our carefully-cultivated fruitfulness.

​In the course of that weeding process, I have become intensely aware of my own selfishness.

"I hope this isn't an offensive question," the woman asked. "And stop me if it is. What gifts have you experienced through this miscarriage?"

I immediately responded with excitement. God has been proving His love to me through this loss, and I wanted to share my story of gratitude.