To most people, Missy and Ross Parker had the kind of love story that sounded too good to be true. They met at church, served together in ministry, and built a joyful blended family of six. Every morning, they’d read the Bible, speak affirmations, and spoil each other like lifelong honeymooners.
Ross, a Mississippi College graduate and longtime Boy Scout leader, lived to serve — fixing things for friends in secret, helping with Habitat for Humanity, and leading divorce recovery sessions at church with Missy.
In July 2012, he headed off on a long-awaited Boy Scout trip to the mountains of New Mexico with Missy’s son, Collin. On July 2, he called Missy one last time before hitting the trail: “This will be the last time we get to talk,” he said. “I just want you to know how much I love you.”
Hours later, he collapsed on the trail from what doctors later called a sudden heart attack or valve failure. There were no warning signs. CPR was started immediately, but even being in an ER likely wouldn’t have saved him. Ross was 47.
The next few days were a blur for Missy, who leaned on faith through her grief. One night, sobbing and desperate for a sign from Ross, she begged God: “Just one word. That’s all I need.”
That very evening, while helping Collin access Ross’s email, she opened his inbox—and there it was: an unread message dated the night before he left.
It was a love letter.
In it, Ross wrote of his full heart, his deep admiration for her joy and strength, and how just watching her curled on the couch filled him with peace. “More than missing you, I want to share with you. My heart is at home with you,” he wrote. “I love you. Your(!) Ross.”
For Missy, it was a message from beyond — a gift of comfort perfectly timed. “I believe God leaned down from heaven and kissed me that night,” she said. “And He let Ross do it, too.”
Her story is a reminder that love doesn’t end. Sometimes it just finds a new way to say, I’m still here.
You must be logged in to post a comment.