The mission of Widows with Kiddos is rooted in God’s heart toward the fatherless and the widow, compelling us to provide care and compassion. Our organization is a place for widows that are currently raising children at home. We are committed to providing emotional support, educational resources, and opportunities for connection. By encouraging shared experiences, we strive to build resilience, inspire hope, and cultivate a sense of belonging; ultimately transforming lives and promoting healing within families affected by loss.
In June of 2003, my life changed in the most unexpected way. I met an incredible man aboard a cruise ship in Alaska—a stranger who, in just a matter of days, became my friend. I had fallen ill during the trip, and this kind-hearted man, Daniel, whom I had just met, selflessly took care of me. I remember him gently wiping my forehead with a cool cloth, tying my shoes, and walking me around the ship for hours in the cold Alaskan air to help me feel better.
Three years later, we stood face-to-face and promised to love and care for one another for the rest of our lives. What I didn’t know then was that our 15th wedding anniversary would also be our last.
In August of 2021, Daniel was admitted to the ICU with severe complications from COVID-19. For eight long weeks, I stayed by his side—now the one wiping his forehead, praying for healing, and loving him more deeply with each passing day. On the 56th day, he unexpectedly suffered a stroke and went home to be with Jesus. He was 41 years old. I lost the love of my life, the father of our four children, and the man who had promised to grow old with me.
The first year without Daniel was a blur of heartbreak and disorientation. Though we were surrounded by love and support, the loneliness was overwhelming. His absence echoed through every part of our daily life—from the empty chair at the dinner table to the quiet moments after the kids were asleep. I was grieving not just the loss of my husband, but the loss of the life we had built together.
In the midst of that grief, I longed to connect with someone—anyone—who truly understood what I was going through. About a year after losing Daniel, I found a local widows group and decided to attend a gathering. I was anxious, heart racing, and I remember thinking, “Please Lord. Let this be a place of comfort.”
I walked into that room, filled with 15 women sitting around a table, all eyes turned to me. After a long pause, someone quietly said, “You are so young.” And in that moment, something shifted in my heart. God gently stirred a calling in me—a vision to create a space specifically for young widows, especially those still raising children. A place where they wouldn’t feel out of place, but seen. Understood. Known.
Three years after Daniel’s passing, Widows With Kiddos was born.
Becoming a young widow feels like standing in the ashes of a life you loved—grief as thick as smoke, emptiness in every direction. But over time, and with faith, I’ve witnessed God begin to weave something beautiful from those very ashes. Through community, we begin to see that even after devastating loss, life can hold meaning again. He brings healing to the widows and the fatherless.
Daniel had a servant’s heart. He loved deeply, gave generously, and cared for me from the very beginning. It is in his honor that I now walk alongside other women on this road.
At Widows with Kiddos, we believe that no widow should walk this journey alone. Our prayer is that every woman who connects with us finds hope, healing, and a renewed sense of purpose. This community was born from pain, but it exists to be a light—for every widow still tucking children into bed at night, still signing her name alone, folding one less laundry pile, and still looking for a place to belong.
You are not alone. There is beauty ahead.
In the summer of 2022, Randy and I began helping a young widow, Sarah, who had lost her husband to Covid and was left with 4 children. Randy began doing yard work and handyman projects while I provided one dinner each week for her family. When I saw all that Sarah had to do after she got off work—pick up her kids from different schools, help them with homework, take them and pick them up from various after school activities and sporting events--I realized that a dinner that she did not have to prepare, or even have to think about preparing, was a very practical way to serve them. At first, we would drop the dinner off, but then the kids started asking if we could stay and eat with them. Having a weekly dinner with them became our routine for over two years.
As we spent time with this family, we learned a lot about young widows who are left alone to raise their children. We quickly realized just how few resources were available to them. (It seems that most of the grief-share programs are short term in duration, and although they address the grief portion of their loss, they do nothing to meet the everyday practical needs that these young widows face.) Friends showed up frequently at first but as time went by, the visits and help were further and further in between. In addition, the grief over the loss was deep for them personally, but life had to go on; the children still had school, sports, appetites etc. They now found themselves in a situation that they neither asked for or wanted. There was an entire household to run, children to raise, laundry, cleaning, yard work, sports, school projects…you get the picture. The responsibilities that Sarah had once shared with Daniel, were now falling on her alone. Overwhelming! What do you do when you’ve got a sick child at home, need to go to work and get the other children to school? It was tough! Our hearts broke for her! As we talked, we also realized that she wasn’t alone. There were many other young widows in our community facing the same challenges.
Their message came through loud and clear; they needed help even if they didn’t know what kind of help they needed and they needed community, where they could freely share their experience and grief.
So, in January, 2024, Sarah, Randy and I met with a group of six other young widows. Our goal was to allow them a safe place where they could freely share their stories and struggles with kindred spirits who knew experientially what they were going through. I learned so much that first meeting. I heard them share their stories, often with tears, but I also heard them laughing together, something I don’t think many of them had done for a long time. The common feeling was of being overwhelmed, not even knowing what they needed, and feeling so alone, longing for others who understood. Their message came through loud and clear; they needed help even if they didn’t know what kind of help they needed and they needed community, where they could freely share their experience and grief. All the stories the women shared were incredibly sad, but they were all incredibly brave and resilient young women who had chosen to go on with life. Some of them shared stories of watching their husband struggle and suffer with cancer. Some shared of losing their husband suddenly through a heart attack or aneurism or unexpectedly to Covid or the flu. They were all doing their best to continue raising their family and keep their family traditions…but now doing all these things alone.
In September 2024, and after meeting with these widows for several months, a group of five individuals—Sarah, Randy and Char, Josh and Allie—met and started pursuing the idea of a nonprofit. In September, we officially incorporated in the state of Arizona. In October, we submitted all the paperwork to the IRS to be recognized as a nonprofit. In May 2025, we received approval from the IRS to be designated as an official 501(c)(3). In the first six months, our group of six widows had grown to fourteen. As of January 2026, just 2 years after meeting for the first time, we have around 30 widows. There’s such a need and we are convinced that God has a special place in His heart for widows and the fatherless.