If I Had Died At 25

If I would have died at age 25, how different my life would have been.

I would have had my son Billy, and he would have been my only child. He would have been 6 years old if I had died at 25.

Jami would have died with me in my womb had I died at 25.

No Jami, Robbie or Virginia. I cannot imagine my life where my precious children did not exist.

I never would have really known and fully appreciated and valued my Mother.

Our relationship started to change and grow when I was pregnant with Jami, which was about two months before I turned 25.

I wouldn’t have appreciated the sacrifices that my parents made or how hard they worked to support our family as they raised my brothers and I.

I wouldn’t have understood that wisdom comes from God’s word and sometimes with age, or that there is so much more to life than going out drinking on Friday nights.

I wouldn’t have had the desire or the opportunity to plant seeds of faith in my life, and in the lives of others.

I wouldn’t have learned more about who God is and what He is not.

I wouldn’t have understood just how important it is to stand alone on His Word. Wether that means only believing His Word despite how things look, or being the only one who believes it.

I wouldn’t have met my husband Matthew and learned that any life worth sharing with someone involves selflessness and adapting and adjusting myself to meet the needs of my spouse because in the end, we both benefit.

I would not have learned to pray. Really pray, and expect to see answers to my prayers.

I wouldn’t have understood that there are no drive thru breakthroughs or microwave miracles.

There is seed, timeeeeeee and harvest.

Life is full of steps and stages.

Billy would have grown up without a Mother.

A Mother who still had a lot of growing up to do.

A Mother who needed the right tools in order to help me grow and change as a person.

I wouldn’t have seen Billy’s kindergarten graduation or watched him loose his baby teeth.

I wouldn’t have seen all the other milestones and accomplishments he achieved as he was growing up.

I am thankful that I didn’t die at 25.

I am grateful that I got to have more children, I got to be a stepmom to three great young men for the last 17 years and I got to have grandchildren!

There is much to be thankful for.

It is so painful to know that there is so much that Billy will miss.

Has missed.

Yet, if I can encourage myself to imagine what it is like in heaven for Billy, I have peace.

Billy knows everything, and so much more than I do in the 20 more years that I’ve gotten to live and learn.

He now understands regrets that I’ve thought about, and it’s okay. He forgives me.

Billy understands the why’s behind the what’s.

I believe that we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses and that Billy is watching.

He’s watching his son Logan loose his baby teeth.

He saw Logan’s 1st day of kindergarten and all the days since then.

My relationship with Billy was put on hold.

He is waiting for me to join him in Heaven. Then we will have all eternity to make up for lost time and then, it will not even matter.

Someday we all will die.

It’s inevitable.

My prayer these days comes from the book of Psalms.

“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

Looking back at age 25, it seems so long ago, and much has happened in my life since then.

25 is young if you’re old, and old if your young.

No matter how old or how young you are, it’s a good idea to remember that this life on earth is but a moment…

Keep things in perspective.

Will it matter in a year from now, or a hundred years from now?

I’m grateful that I didn’t die at 25.

When it is my time, I hope I have gained a heart of wisdom that will continue to be passed on long after I say goodbye.