Dear Fatherless Friend

Open Letter to my Mom

Open Letter to my Mom


When you and Dad died, I wanted to die myself. I mean to die in the most literal sense of the word. I didn’t want to live life without you. I knew things would get better, and I would laugh again, but the time it would take to get to that place sounded painful and exhausting. Instead, I preferred the “just take me home now, Lord” mindset.You always parented me with a heavenly perspective, challenging me to think, act, and behave in a way that aligns with the Word of God. When you died I had to decide if what you taught me was how I wanted to live. I chose Jesus because you made it so perfectly clear that Jesus is the only way, truth, and life (John 14:6). What a gift to have a mom that makes truth clear for her children. Thank you.I went on to experience healing from the pain of your absence. Jesus showed himself so tender and personal. He healed the brokenness and hurt in me that existed long before you died. He walked with me through the painful, ugly, skin crawling things I had done. As I began to confess, I quickly learned that he loves me. I’m not talking about in the trivial way I used to say it but not really believe it. Now when His word tells me that in spite of my sin, he offers me a double portion instead of shame, I believe it (Isaiah 61:7). I’ve learned that He hurts when I hurt. He knows every detail of the pain your absence causes me, and it hurts him because he loves me.This was just the beginning of the healing road. Recently I studied the entire book of Revelation. I went into the study excited to hear about Heaven, and what I can look forward to with you someday. As I studied about Heaven, I started getting excited and hopeful to be there, with you, someday. Then I felt God interrupted with the question, “Am I enough?” I couldn’t stop thinking about this question and what my answer may be. Is God alone enough to make Heaven worth it for me? I wanted to say, “I don’t know”, and move on, but He wanted more. He wanted me to be honest, raw, and truthful. The truth was that at that time, I didn’t love him enough for Heaven to be worth it for me.What I really wanted was to be with you Mom, more than anything in the world, more than I wanted Jesus. I wanted to be with you in a place with no more death, pain or suffering (Revelation 21:4). This is what I truly wanted, to be with you in perfection. You are what made Heaven a desire for me. Though I was religious for many years, I knew that I needed to want Heaven because of Jesus too. I know that Heaven is supposed to be great because of Jesus, because of God. I need Him to be the bigger reason I want Heaven. Studying the book of Revelation made me realize I didn’t think He was enough for me. I wanted Him to be, I knew He should be, but He wasn’t. It felt like a betrayal to you Mom, if I wanted Him more than you. You’re my mom, my person. I was afraid it would hurt you if I wanted Him more. I was afraid it would hurt me if I wanted Him more. I wondered if it was even possible to want Him more. I wanted to tuck these thoughts away, ignore them, and go on believing that it would all work out when I get to Heaven, but I couldn’t. He is showing me there is more to know about Him. He wants all of me, every part of me … the good, bad, ugly, and fearful parts of Maria. With great uncertainty and fear, I once again chose to trust and allow Him to show my heart that He is enough.Taking this vulnerable step in my relationship with Him was one of the most painful steps I’ve ever taken. In a way, it felt like I was losing you all over again. I knew I had to completely let you go in yet another way, in order to walk deeper with Him. I couldn’t do it, it felt wrong. Everything about taking this step felt painful, terrifying like my heart was being torn in two.God has remained faithful through some pretty terrible stuff thus far, so I am choosing to stay willing … He meets me there. He is patient with me. He didn’t rush me out of my broken beliefs about Him. He let me be where I was, broken hearted in my broken belief. I’m learning to love Him more than even you Mom. I feel naked in this new way of thinking. It feels weird to work at wanting Him more and loving Him more. He is turning out to be so different than the God that I had created in my mind. He’s not a religious tyrant, but a loving Savior. He’s not an angry captain, but a faithful King. He’s not a judgmental juror, but a just Judge. He isn’t an arrogant winner, but a kind Protector. He is Faithful and True (Revelation 19:11). It turns out that He is nothing I thought, and everything I never knew I wanted and desperately needed.I used to say that your death brought me life, but I was wrong. Your death allowed me to see more clearly the One that died to give me life, Jesus. I once chose Jesus because you did, but now I want Jesus because of Jesus. I miss you, Mom. In honor of Mother’s Day, I give you the gift you always wanted most for your children: I’m learning to want Jesus more than I want you.
Thank you for teaching me to move toward Jesus. Your mothering is impacting the generations behind you. Well done good and faithful servant (Matthew 25:23). I love being your daughter,



Somethings Not Right Here

My parents died in a plane crash [almost] 5 years ago. Every year, on the anniversary of their death, it’s hard, really hard to allow myself to accept the end of their life, the reality that they are not coming back. I always take time out of my day to stop, reflect and remember them and memories we have together. I want to remember. I want to remember the good but I also want to remember the pain of that phone call that first informed me of their death, the nightmare of the days and months following. I want to remember. I need to remember because it’s the depth of my pain [over their loss] that reminds me just how deep my love for them truly was. I want to remember. I want to feel the pain so I run to it and not away from it. It’s a bond that on those who have grieved can understand …

I hang onto truths of who Jesus is during these times of pain. Truths that are rooted deep are: Jesus died on the cross for my sins. Jesus is risen from the dead. Jesus saved me from hell. I can be with Jesus in eternity forever. I can have hope because of Jesus.

As a Christian, I ramble these truths off like I’m reading a magazine article with the latest celebrity gossip & it wasn’t until this year that I was really broken over that. It wasn’t until this year that I realized something is not right here. My parents die & my grief naturally takes me and draws me to a place wanting to miss them, even wanting to fully feel the pain of their absence. Jesus dies to save my sins and instead of grief, I feel…well, nothing. His death has always made me want to remember and reflect but in a distant, trivial kind of way. His death has never, until this year, made me want to grieve [my sin and his death] to the core. It’s not right. It just can’t be right because if it is, I’ve made idols out of my parents . I have to love him more. I have to.


Thank you, God, for Disney World

Thank you, God, for Disney World

I love how repetition allows us to understand and see new treasures that go easily missed otherwise. Recently, I realized a beautiful quality about my oldest that, if not for repetition, I would have missed. At least three times a week, we try to have time where we learn and implement one truth about God. We start and end our time together in prayer. At the end, I always allow each girl to take turns praying. It wasn’t until recently that I realized my oldest uses prayer as a time to thank God and nothing else. Her prayers go something like this, “thank you for Mommy and Daddy, thank you for Grammy and Pawpaw, thank you for Disney World, thank you for Sissy and Pax, thank you for the sky, thank you for the nature…” Once we start thanking God for underwear and poop, then I know it’s just about time to say “amen” 😉 I love that repetition allowed me to see something beautiful in my daughter, her thankfulness. She has taught me just how much I’m distracted by my anxiety and fear and worry that I’m robbed of thankfulness.

God, this world has robbed me of so much joy. Help me to find thankfulness for all you are again.

Death, 5 Years Later

Death, 5 Years Later

My parents died in a plane crash on June 24, 2011. In addition to my parents, were my two dogs, Ally and Brady, and brother, Austin. My brother and Brady survived and I am forever grateful. As you can imagine, there has been a lot of healing that had to take place from the crash, both physically and emotionally. My emotional healing has been somewhat long and grueling. The fact is a “tornado” named Death came through my life and my foundation, of all I knew, destroyed.


In My 2011, Joplin, MO encountered a catastrophic tornado that is known to be one of the deadliest tornados. I’ve never forgotten when I watched, on the news, the devastating effects this tornado left on the town. Others were moved to action as they went to Joplin to help survivors clean up and rebuild from the destruction, my mom being one. I remember getting pictures sent over text along with stories of people she met, prayed, and cried with while she was there. What was once a news story started to become very personal to me as I watched my mom go from watching a news story to leaving her home to be with and help people in Joplin. My mom spent her last days among dirt and rubble and hurting souls. I loved her for that, but little did I know I was about to be alone




A day after she came home from Joplin, I faced my own personal “tornado” named Death. The effects this tornado left were excruciating: the death of Mom and Dad, family gatherings, family traditions, mom’s home-cooked meals, the dogs barking and being annoying, a home, a future with them, a life I knew and loved so much. This tornado was terrible and hit without warning on June 24, 2011. There I was, standing among the wreckage left from this tornado feeling alone, lost and hopeless. I was terrified. I was terrified that my foundation could never be rebuilt and I would never be happy again, but like he did for those in Joplin, God provided through my husband, family, and friends. These people love the Lord and, because of that, were able to love me well by carrying me when I could hardly move (sometimes literally), provided shelter when I desperately needed rest, allowed me to cry, grieve, and just be a flat out wreck when I didn’t want to face another day of this pain. For lack of better word, they helped me clean up the wreckage to make room for God to rebuild my foundation. I thought that everything I knew about God was destroyed in this tornado, but instead, everything I knew about God was being renewed and restored to a right view of God. In a terrifying time of life, I am finally learning that God is kind, loving, and for me.




After 5 years, my wreckage is cleaned up, my foundation is firm but my house is still being built. Each new stage of the building process brings a twinge of grief and pain as I’m reminded of my parent’s absence and the reality that life will never be blissful and carefree like it once was. I may not be able to ever live life carefreely but I’m beginning to wonder if that’s ever how God intended me to live. This world is temporary and even though living carefreely isn’t possible, living freely is and I’m learning that’s the best way to live … free!




“They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations.”

Isaiah 61:4




Picture: Mom in Joplin, MO in June 2011