Today my dad would have been 77 years old. And while there are so many things I remember about him, one of my favorites is a bookcase. My dad was a jokester. He loved playing Scrabble. And he was an incredibly talented cabinet maker. When I was 13 years old, he made me a beautiful wooden bookcase. I still have it. That bookcase has moved with me all over the United States through different homes, different chapters, and different versions of me. And there's something that feels especially meaningful about the fact that the little girl he built a bookcase for eventually became an author. But my dad is also the reason I look at life very differently today. He was diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer just one month before he was supposed to retire. One month. He had worked his entire life, believing there would be time later. Instead, the last few years of his life were spent in and out of hospitals—surgeries, chemotherapy, infections, and everything that came with fighting cancer. He never got the retirement he had worked for. He didn't get to check off the things on his bucket list. And watching that changed me. It made me realize how often we build our lives around someday. Someday I'll travel. Someday I'll write the book. Someday I'll start the business. Someday I'll tell my story. Someday I'll do the thing I know God has been calling me to do. My dad's experience taught me that someday is not a guarantee. That was the aha moment that eventually became so much bigger than a bucket list. It became my book. My business. My brand. And the legacy I want to leave. It's also why I'm so passionate about encouraging other people to share what they've lived and learned. Because your story isn't valuable simply because it happened to you. Your story becomes valuable when you use it to help someone else. The experience you survived may teach someone. The lesson you learned may save someone years of struggle. The expertise you've gained may become a book, a business, a speech, a class, or a movement. And that thing you've been feeling called to do? You don't have to wait until everything is perfect to begin.