Don Aycock writes:

A few years ago, I somehow ended up buying two Mother's Day cards. I sent one to my mother, and because I keep a three-year calendar, I filed the other one away in the May section of the next year. Sadly, my mother died shortly after I sent that first card. Now I have a greeting card that can never be delivered—unless U.S. postal service can find a way to get it to eternity!

The more I've reflected on this undeliverable card, the more I've realized how it mirrors so much of life. We run into situations where we realize we can never again do what we intended. No matter how much we may want to, we can't hold on to the past. A loved one dies, and we grieve that we will never again hear their comforting, loving voice. Disease creeps in and robs us of the ability to do what we once enjoyed. An accident occurs, and in the blink of an eye, we lose some function that we took for granted. The word for these situations is finality.

"Finality" is a hard word to say. In fact, we spend a great deal of energy trying to find ways around it. We play the "if only" game—"If only I try harder, it might get better;" "If only I act better, maybe there's still a chance;" "If only I pray harder, he might make it." But even prayer won't change some situations. My mother is gone, and the most fervent prayer won't bring her back. What prayer will do, though, is help me to remember that life is short, and I need to live a life of love while I can. I'm reminded that I should be grateful for what I have now, because it could be gone before I open next year's calendar.

So love now. Enjoy today. Be grateful this instant. Squeeze every drop of joy from each day. Pray hard and love deeply. And if you can, send your mom a Mother's Day card.