In Loving Memory of Jessica

Four months ago, our daughter Jessica went home to be with Jesus. She spent a third of her life battling cancer and grew up with periods when even basic needs like complete, nourishing meals were hard to come by. Yet she lived with remarkable joy and purpose. Jessica’s faith in Jesus was extraordinary and unshakable. Her radiant smile and quiet strength, even in pain, drew love and comfort to everyone around her.

This loss has deepened my wonder: How do those without Christ endure such grief? Over the last few years, I’ve lost my mom and my younger brother, but nothing compares to burying a child. Only the hope of Jesus sustains us—the certainty that we will see our loved ones again, fully healed and overflowing with joy in His presence.

Now, with only memories of our precious time with Jessica, I have two guiding desires for the rest of my life until I join her: First, to cherish every moment with the people I love. Second, to share what God has taught me about faith, family, and finances so others can build the family of their dreams and one day reunite with their loved ones in heaven, free of regret.

The foundation of our family’s strength has always been faith in Jesus Christ. While many non-Christian families thrive in beautiful ways, only in Christ do we have the eternal assurance of seeing our loved ones again.

How did we help all six of our children develop a genuine passion for Jesus? It came down to intentional leadership. Children enter the world like a blank sheet of music. From the earliest moments, even before birth, they begin absorbing the notes around them. Life’s busyness can quickly fill their hearts and minds with whatever influences are loudest. Before long, their memories, experiences, and values take root and solidify.

As parents, we chose to be the primary composers of those early melodies. That might sound strict, but if we’re not actively guiding our children’s lives, someone or something else will. God is the ultimate Author, but He entrusts us with stewardship and free will. Our kids arrive as gifts full of potential but without experience or knowledge. Their “operating system” is highly moldable. We wouldn’t hand a new phone to a stranger to set up with their face ID. Why would we be less careful with a child’s heart and future?

We set loving boundaries for their protection, not control. Think of a leash on a beloved pet during a walk: it’s not just to prevent escape (they’d likely run back anyway), but to keep them safe from traffic, strangers, or harm, and to guide them along the path you know is best. Boundaries are like the walls of a home or the lines on a road: they create safety and direction. Over time, as children mature, those boundaries naturally widen. Eventually, they set their own (or choose none), and the outcome may bring pride or heartbreak. We can’t control their adult choices, but we can influence them deeply while we have the chance.

After Jessica’s passing, I reflect daily on what I might have done differently: better nutrition, more exercise, less stress for her. If you still have that window of influence with your children, don’t wait. They need your guidance now.

In their early years, we created a carefully shaped environment: screening shows and influences, filling our home with positive, encouraging words, and modeling joy ourselves. We rushed to help when they fell, explained dangers with love rather than distant shouts of “No!” (We knew yelling from afar rarely works. Most of us learned that from our own childhood.) As they grew, we gradually relaxed those safeguards, offering guidance instead of constant intervention.

We gave our children freedom within a loving, positive space. God is the true Author of their stories; we are only guardians for a season. Our highest calling is to lead them toward the One who loves them most; the One with the power to fulfill their deepest dreams. If we fall short, we’re not ultimately responsible. They become adults and stand before God themselves. No parent is perfect, so we entrust it all to Him.