Facing myself in the face of death

Today, as I bought birthday party supplies for my four-year-old-to-be, another mom buried her four-year-old son, after he succombed to a brain tumor earlier this week. I don't know this woman personally--though I am friends with her cousin--but my heart breaks for her nonetheless. This isn't fair. And it isn't understandable. And there simply are no words. I can only pray that this family will draw the strength they need at this difficult time from the Lord and that He will sustain them in these dark days. For me, the effect of this child's death is to to examine my relationship with my own kids. How many times, just today, did I take them for granted? Or become unnecessarily exasperated with them? Were my harsh words more than my loving words? Did I hug them enough? Did I truly enjoy them? I will admit to you that in the past few weeks I have viewed my role as "Mom" as a burden of sorts, and I have failed to appreciate the blessing that it is to be in this position. A messy house, a screaming child, an interrupted thought, a life lacking in glitz and glamor: these are not burdens. These are the blessings of the everyday. I know Sondra would embrace any and all of these with joy today. Tomorrow is not guaranteed. Not for me, not for my kids, not for anyone. This moment is all I can claim. Please, Lord, help me to make the most of it.