None of us will be on this earth very long. I understand that now in a way I didn't when I was young. When I was younger, I thought I had all the time in the world. There would always be another sunrise, another birthday, another Christmas, another phone call, another opportunity to say what needed to be said. Then somehow the years passed.
I was a daughter before I became a mother, then a grandmother, and then a great-grandmother. I've watched people I love come into this world, and I've stood brokenhearted as people I love left it. I've buried people I thought I would have more time with. Including my son and great granddaughter.
I've watched my children walk roads I couldn't walk for them. I've prayed prayers that weren't answered the way I wanted. I've made mistakes. I've said things I wish I could take back, and there were times I should have spoken but remained silent.
I've forgiven things I once thought were unforgivable. And through it all, Jesus Christ has stayed. At this season of my life, I find myself looking backward sometimes and wondering, How did all those years go by so quickly? There are memories that still make me smile. There are others that can still bring tears to my eyes.
And yes, I have regrets.
If I could sit down with that young woman I once was, I wouldn't tell her to make more money, buy more things, or worry so much about what people thought of her. I would tell her:
Love more.
Love harder.
Hold your babies a little longer because one day they won't be babies.
Call your family.
Take the picture.
Say you're sorry.
Forgive sooner.
Don't waste precious years carrying anger that was never meant to go with you into eternity. Tell people you love them while they are still here to hear it. And when someone you love takes a road you don't understand, love them anyway.
I've learned that life can change with one telephone call. Someone can be here today and on the other side of the veil tomorrow.
Alma teaches that when we leave mortality, our spirits are “taken home to that God who gave them life” (Alma 40:11).
I love those words: taken home.
Death isn't disappearing.
It's going home.
I've had enough goodbyes in my life to know how much they hurt. But because of Jesus Christ, I also know that the grave doesn't get the final word. He does. And His word is resurrection. His word is redemption. His word is eternal life.
His word is that families can be together again.
So at this point in my journey, I don't want to spend whatever years God gives me worrying about things that won't matter when I stand before Him.
I want to love people.
I want to serve.
I want to forgive.
I want my children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, family, and friends to know that I loved them fiercely—even when life was messy, even when we disagreed, even when circumstances separated us.
And above everything else, I want them to know that I loved Jesus Christ.
When my own day eventually comes and my spirit is taken home to the God who gave me life, I hope I can look back and say:
I wasn't perfect.
I made mistakes.
I stumbled many times.
But I kept getting back up.
I kept believing.
I kept trying to follow Jesus Christ.
And with the time I have left, I want to love more love harder && louder.
Melinda Sue Bridges
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