It's not a dress rehearsal.

Why do we wait?

I can't be the only one.

"Life is too short" - you hear it all the time, but we don't really live that way - do we? I don't.

We wait until we move into that house we've always wanted, to get ourselves organized or exercise a creative idea for decorating. We say the dogs will be so much better behaved when we have the 6ft fence so they can properly exercise themselves...often. We wait to focus on getting ourselves back into shape until the stress of everyday life subsides; until we figure out the routine. There's things we want to do more of, more often, more generously, but we say now isn't the time because of X, I'll think about it some more and give back soon. We want to get into the habit of church so that we practice the faith everyday, but with a young child it's hard to predict how Sunday mornings will go.

And oh yeah, the "we"...is me of course.

Until this weekend.

My heart and my mind are heavy with thoughts and condolensces for a guy we all grew up with. He took his family out on the boat Saturday - pregnant wife, 3-year old boy, and wife's brother. They all went out together. Yet only he came home. A terribly tragic boating accident took his family - just like that. His pregnant wife and son are dead and brother-in-law is significantly injured.

He woke up that day not knowing the afternoon would be any different from the morning.

I've said to numerous people in my life RECENTLY "This is not a dress rehearsal...we get one go at this life." And quite frankly, I haven't been living like it. It's much easier to say those words than to do.

However, after being consumed by these saddening thoughts, breath-taking actually, I am committing to DO something about whatever I'm thinking about. Whether it's a conversation I need to have, a dream I want to follow, a something new I want to try....life IS too short. We are not guaranteed tomorrow. Cliche and true.

When Bill was in Afghanistan, it was inevitable to not think about what life would possibly look like if he didn't come back. And more recently, after Georgia, we were considering a stint in which I was forced again to think about what our life would look like if for some forsaken reason he didn't come home...just how would our life look then. Thankfully, he didn't go so I didn't have to think about it for very long.

Unfortunately, our friend isn't thinking about it. He's now living it. And I have prayed over and over that God will wrap him and their families in His arms and just hold them. Hold them tight.

This is not a dress rehearsal folks. We've got this one life. So let's live it. And live it GOOD.

Dear Mom...

Mom,
I thought after becoming a mom, I would know the perfect gift to get you for Mother's Day. The reality: I still have no idea what you want for Mother's Day. Because if you're anything like me, as a mom, you want the focus to be anywhere BUT on you. :) And something tells me we might have a thing or two in common.

But what I do know is this. And it's something I DIDN'T know until I became a mom.

You've lost sleep over me. You've stayed awake wondering where I am and what I'm doing. You've asked yourself if you're doing the right thing over and over again. You've felt immeasurable pain when, as a teenager,  I said I hated you. You felt pushed far far away when I didn't ask you to come backstage at dance competitions, but instead acted like I knew exactly what to do by myself.

You want to give me advice and influence my actions because you don't want me to have to go through the heartache, the struggle, the stress, and/or the pain you ever experienced. And the reason being because the amount of love you have in your heart for me is unmatched. My pain is your pain.

You wonder if you provided for me enough, educated me enough, exposed me to enough. What if you would've done something different - what if we hadn't moved - what if dad didn't work in a profession that meant he wasn't at home sometimes.

Something I know for sure is that I can never thank you enough for this and more. You've made me who I am and provided for me a wonderful life. We're friends - you and me. We may not always agree or be on the same wave length, but I've always been proud that you're my mom and grateful that you're my friend.

I love you mom.

I know I still don't know the half of the sacrifices, interrupted work days, and sleepness nights, but I know...as a mom myself now...that you wouldn't have had it any other way. What gift do you give as a thank you for such selflessness?

Eternal gratitude and 'job well done'  are all I can come up with.