Today, I thought of you (though you probably didn’t know it).

I thought of you, Jo-Lynne, when I saw a tweet about BlogHer…you and your sparkly red shoes. You with your perfectly timed humor, your magnetic personality. You with a heart as big as Texas.

Josh, I thought about you today. My one and only brother. We’re so different, but also a little bit the same. You have reddish-brown hair and wear canvas shoes and are math-minded. You married a girl I really like and moved to Portland.

A plane flew by and, Mandi, you came to mind. I wondered where in the world you are. I wondered if you are being romanced by someone (and I prayed that he would be as wildly passionate as you are).

I walked by your house and thought of you, Meghan. I thought – for the zillionth time – how we NEED to invite you over for dinner, how we want too. I thought about how we could be friends, how we could have great conversations about books and dreams.

Rollo, I thought of you today when I was rocking my baby to sleep at naptime. I was singing “Holiness, Holiness, It’s what I long for…” and a memory of you and your guitar came to mind. I thought of my middle-school self and what an impact you made on me at First Baptist as my youth pastor. Those rides in the church van with a dozen needy kids, stops at 7-eleven for slushies, talks about music (you made fun of Country; I still like it) and boys (you told me to wait for the best – and I did). Such wisdom you poured into me in those precarious days.

I thought so many things about you today – Yes, YOU. Cousin. Sister. College Professor. Coworker. Old childhood friend.

24 hours in a day. 24 hours that seem so much shorter than they used to in childhood and young adulthood.

I have a husband to dream with, encourage, enjoy. Kids to hug and help and hold. A house to keep. A writer hat to wear. An entrepreneur hat to wear. A friend hat to wear. A world-changer hat to wear. A comfortable pair of pajamas to wear (because a girl does have to sleep sometimes you know).

I want to do it all. To write you that letter. Bring you that meal. Invite you over for apple crisp. Tell you that your eyes are radiant windows to your iridescent soul. Remind you what an impact you had in my life way back when. Introduce myself for the first time. But…I often have a baby on my hip, a preschooler tugging on my arm, and smeared banana on my shirt.

Know this: In spite of everything, I AM thinking of you. More often than you know.

Do you struggle to find the time to acknowledge the people in your life? How do you show people that you are thinking of them?