If you’re in the Amory, MS area, or anywhere near it, you may remember what you were doing two years ago today. At this time of day, it seemed like a completely normal day—like even the day itself had no idea what it was about to hold.
Little did we know that many of us would spend that night huddled in closets, bathtubs, and storm shelters.
I still remember the feeling of helplessness in myself but hopefulness in God, crammed into a closet with my wife, our two boys (our youngest wasn’t born yet), and even the dog, as we watched the meteorologist track an already-destructive tornado straight toward us.
There was a brief pause of disbelief right before he voiced a short but earnest prayer for so many families. Then a longer pause after we lost the connection.
The wind got louder, the kids cried harder, and our prayers shifted from calm requests for safety to desperate cries for grace and mercy.
I remember the sudden pressure shift, the sound of debris hitting the house, and the eerie feeling of air rushing under the closet door—like our home had just opened itself to the outside world. For a split second, I genuinely wondered if that door would hold.
Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.
I stepped into the hallway and saw our bedroom window shattered, glass scattered across the bed where we would have been any other night. Peeking outside, I saw trees twisted and broken, power lines down, and pieces of roofing littering the street.
Soon, the sound of chainsaws filled the air—and it wouldn’t stop for what felt like months.
We were fortunate. Our house was damaged, but we were safe. Others weren’t so lucky. That tornado didn’t discriminate. It came fast and left entire families to rebuild—not just homes, but lives.
In the days that followed, I saw kindness I’ll never forget. People showing up with chainsaws, tarps, casseroles, and helping hands. Neighbors who had barely spoken before, now sharing meals and clearing trees together. The best parts of humanity tend to show up right at the hardest times.
And in the middle of all that chaos, one truth became painfully clear: Life is a gift.
I know you’re on a financial website, and I do usually write about financial planning, retirement, or some sort of money-related topic. But this one’s a little different. And that’s okay—because money doesn’t matter without a life to live.
We spend so much of our lives planning for someday that we forget to cherish today. That storm reminded me how quickly “someday” can be taken off the table. It reminded me that the point of financial security isn’t just to have more money—it’s to protect what you love and make the most of the time you’re given.
Since that night, I’ve tried to be more intentional. I still get distracted. I still fall back into the rush. But I’m learning to slow down. To laugh with my kids. To tell my wife, Mae, that I love her even when the day’s been long. To be present—because presence is what sticks with people when everything else falls away.
And yes—I’ve also tried to be more prepared. Because as much as we hope storms like that won’t come again, life tends to surprise us. And I want my family to be taken care of if it does.
If you’re not sure where to start, here are a few small but meaningful steps I’d encourage you to take:
- Say what needs to be said. Don’t wait. Tell the people you love that you love them—today.
- Review your insurance. Home, auto, life, disability. Know what you have and where it is.
- Create or update your will. Even a simple one can give your loved ones comfort.
- Have an emergency fund. It’s for exactly that, emergencies.
- Take inventory of what matters. Not just your finances, but your faith, your people, your purpose.
You don’t have to overhaul your life overnight. But take a step. Do one thing today that tomorrow’s version of you—and your family—will be grateful for.
Because life, after all, is a gift.
Don’t wait to live it.
Spencer Reed, CPFA®
