It is time.

I say it's time but my next thought is maybe it is not time.
How, oh how do you write about someone so dear and precious to you in the past tense? Especially when you still can't believe they are gone.

I think I will start by telling you about Brie and me. I know we met at nine30 but I am not sure how or when our friendship began. It seemed that Tim and I often sat behind her during church, and Tim was always joking that someone needed to feed her because she was so thin. We were both pregnant with our first children at the same time. We used the same OB. I think we first connected when we ran into each other at an appointment. Our OB was always running late so we had the chance to visit. I remember going to visit Brie in the hospital on Thanksgiving Day after she had Mali. I knew that she had Mali because my OB told me that day after at my appointment. I was on bed rest, but was leaving the house to go eat Thanksgiving lunch with some of our friends. I convinced Tim to take me by the hospital, and we took several non-practical presents from a local boutique. I guess that shows that at that point I did not really know her because I would never have given her non-practical gifts otherwise.

Somehow we really connected after the birth of our kids. We got to know each other each week at a Bible study a couple of other moms held for moms that were nursing. I don't think I learned much about John through that study but cemented friendships that will last forever. Brie and Mali started coming over to visit and later play. Our friendship developed. Brie and I were very different. We often commented that we were surprised that we were friends. She was so tiny. I am not tiny. She was messy. I do not like messes. Imperfection didn't bother her. Imperfection often bothers me. She wanted to be the best mom possible. I wanted to survive. She drank Dr. Pepper. I prefer Diet Coke. She was cheap. I could stand to be cheaper. She considered "running" as a jog around the block. I run at least three miles or I don't bother. She made homemade invitations. I remade them because they weren't straight. I could go on and on and on.

Two things that Brie and I shared (and I guess why we were so close) were our love for God and our desire to honor Him in day-to-day living. Brie and I talked for hours and hours about how to be better moms and wives. We prayed for each other and often shared our struggles. We prayed for each others husbands and children. A common theme I have heard repeated over the last week was that Brie didn't just say that she was going to pray for you, she did. This is so true. She prayed for me and my family through the small things and some very large things. Brie challenged me to love my husband more. She taught me biblical truths about my role as a wife and a mom. She encouraged me to spend more time playing with my kids and less time worrying about house duties.

I grieved when Brie moved to Amarillo. She was my best friend. Mali was my kids' best friend. It was hard. No more play dates. No more lunches. No more Bible studies together. No more pictures at the Tech tulips. No more leaving the OB's office and heading straight to her house so that she could be the first friend to hear that I was pregnant. As time went on our friendship changed. We were not physically close, but we still talked often. I knew that I could call on her for advice. She knew that I was always available for whatever she needed. I hated that I could not help her out more when she was so sick with both Eleri and Curran. We still prayed for each other. I would often get one line texts asking me to pray. I'd pray and wait for her phone call explaining the situation. She and the girls (and sometimes Eric) would come visit usually for some special occasion. The kids and I (and sometimes Tim) would travel to Amarillo. Abby's birth. Grant's birth. Sara's wedding. A cousin having a baby. Birthdays. Baby showers. Surgery. Doctor's appointments. Husbands travelling. Trips to the zoo. We still shared our lives.

Brie loved me, and I loved her. In fact, I almost would always tell her that I loved her at the end of our phone conversations (like I tell Tim that I love him and then hang-up). I always caught myself before I said it as I am not one who tells people how I feel. Again, Brie is teaching me. Tell people how you feel when you feel it. There may not be a next time. I wish I would have told her that I loved her. I know that she knew but why was I hesitant to tell her?

Brie had a rough life in many ways. She faced many struggles as a child and many of these struggles affected her as an adult. However, Brie trusted God. She basked in his unconditional love. She fiercely loved Jesus, her husband, her girls, her unborn baby, her friends,and her family. She wanted everyone to find happiness and freedom in Christ. She wanted others to know of the difference that Jesus Christ made in her life. She wanted to honor God with her every action. I know that she is sitting at the feet of Christ in heaven and soaking up every word. I miss her terribly but am happy that she is happy and right where she ultimately wanted to be.

I will miss her friendship, her sweet smile, her advice and wisdom, her love, her prayers, her messiness, her books (she was so cheap but always bought the latest book from our favorite author), her comments on my blog, her encouragement, her baby bumps, her vacation stories, and her declarations that she was not high maintenance.

I know many lives were changed on December 26th of 2010. I look forward to seeing how many lives are eternally changed from either knowing Brie White Gomez or hearing of her story.

I love you friend.