top of page
  • Writer's pictureA Transparent Missionary


I will never forget that day, December 16, 1983, the day we received the news that my dad died in a car accident on his way back from work. This was just a couple months after we were told that my mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer, ( 2 different kinds of cancer actually) and she just had a few months to live. I was only 17.

His death was so unexpected that I was in total shock. I remember the funeral, there was so many flowers that they didn’t fit in the chapel, and they were laid out outside by the walkway, there were so many people everywhere. I kept saying to myself, how could this be? It cannot be true. I remember writing him a letter and putting it in his casket, but I don’t remember what I wrote, I remember the strength and peace my mom had… I just couldn’t understand. It had to be a mistake.

Many family members would come to me and love on me and tell me, it’s ok to cry. But I couldn’t, I just couldn’t… it just wasn’t true, my dad could not have left us like that, he wouldn’t. Many days, weeks and months went by and I don’t remember much of them. That time of my life is all foggy still, but I do remember that for a whole year I waited for him to come back. I would dream of him walking into the house…but he didn’t.

A few years ago, I had a dream. It was a dream that I kept having over and over. The sun was shining, I was running on a soft hill, in the middle of a beautiful meadow, nothing else around me, the meadow was never ending and there was a big tree up on the hill. My dad was holding my hand, and we were having so much fun. We were playing and laughing, running together. I felt so free and loved and so happy that I can feel his love again.

I loved that dream so much that at times I would intentionally think about it while I was awake, and just close my eyes and find myself again in that meadow with him. It was like we had a date and we would meet there anytime I wanted. Even though I was never able to see his face, I knew it was my dad and I loved the time we spent there.

On one occasion the dream was interrupted somehow, and I knew that I was not with my dad, that it wasn’t my dad holding my hand, and I was confused. Suddenly I understood that it was God, and It was Him all along. He sat with me under the tree (shoulder to shoulder, still holding my hand), and He said to me: I am your father, you were never fatherless, you were never an orphan, I was with you all along. Somehow the pain of all those years of not having my dad disappeared and I felt loved like I had never felt before. At that moment I knew Him as MY loving Father. It was overwhelming.

There is no better love than the love of our heavenly father. There is no better father than our Creator God. He formed us and knows everything about us. He knows us more than we know ourselves. He loves us unconditionally, and longs for a real and intimate relationship with us. He meets us in our worst moments, wraps His loving arms around us and holds our hand as we walk through the paths of life (even when we don’t know it), and restores to us the abundant life he has always planned for us.

I don’t have the dream anymore, but I know that I can go there anytime. All I need to do is close my eyes, and I am there, and He is always there waiting for me. He takes my hand and we walk together, and we talk, and we sit by the big tree. And he loves on me. And I am all His.

My hope is that as you spend time with Him, looking at the heart of God, that you are able to receive a fresh revelation of Him as "Abba", your heavenly father. That you understand the great magnitude of His astonishing love in all its dimensions. How deeply intimate and far-reaching is his love! How enduring and inclusive it is! Endless love beyond measurement that transcends our understanding—this extravagant love that pours into you until you are filled to overflowing with the fullness of God! And that you too know; that you just like me, YOU are all HIS.

33 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page