“Read this book, son; I think you'd like it. It's Abide In Christ by Andrew Murray.” That's the last book my dad would give me. A couple years went by after that, but I never read it. Written in 1895, the English felt old and made it difficult to read. I didn't think it was worth the effort. 

Then my dad went to heaven.

My dad and mom loved the Lord more deeply than I did. They depended on Him for everything, which I thought was kind of silly. I could take care of myself, thank you very much. Besides, how could I take pride in my accomplishments if I gave God all the credit? I trusted Him for my salvation and prayed when I needed something, but that was about it.

But when Dad went to be with the Lord 17 years ago, it was a wake-up call for me. It made me consider my own mortality. What would I do with the time I had left? I thought I should ask God about that, but I didn’t know how to hear from Him. Then it dawned on me: I knew about God but didn’t really know Him. I professed Christ but didn’t possess Him, and I wasn’t sure how much of me He possessed, either. Could I get close to Him? Does He even want me to? 

To find out, I read every book and article I could find on getting to know God. I also discovered quite a bit of scripture on the subject that I had somehow missed before. The first book I read was the one Dad gave me: Abide In Christ. It opened my eyes to what I was missing, to what my folks had enjoyed all along: the incredible peace and joy that can only be experienced by pursuing God with my whole heart, soul, mind and strength.

I came to see that our Creator made us so that He could love us and we could love Him–not just serve Him. He wants us to work with Him, not just for Him; to work closer with Him, not just harder. But He won't force Himself on us. He's waiting for us to make the first move. I'm glad I finally did.

Dad, I wish I could tell you how right you were and how wrong I was. How swallowing my foolish pride enabled me to break free from my self-righteous, mediocre Christianity and see God do things through me I could never do on my own. I miss being able to ask you how you handled the things I have to deal with now that I'm almost the age you were when you went to heaven. But most of all, I really miss hearing you tell me how proud you are of me. Some big hugs are in store when we all get to join you, Dad!

Contributed by: Rob Beaird
 

Reflection: 

Read each verse a few times very slowly. Pause to soak in each thought or keyword.

John 15:4-5 (NIV)
“Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”

Jeremiah 29:13 (TPT)
“When you search for me with all your heart, you will find me.”


“A Letter To Absence” 
(Optional ~15-20 minutes)

Take a moment to reflect on someone or something you’ve lost—a loved one, a cherished place, a changed relationship, a memory of what was, or even an addiction that once held sway over your life. Write a letter to that person, place, or experience, expressing your feelings of loss, gratitude, and what you learned from the time you shared.

This exercise can be a powerful act of reflection and healing, allowing you to process your emotions and begin to find closure in your grief. Consider how their presence or influence has shaped who you are today. This isn’t just about saying goodbye; it’s also an opportunity to acknowledge the gifts they brought into your life, even amidst the pain of absence. Allow your words to flow freely as you craft this letter, honoring the complexity of your emotions, and embracing the healing power of vulnerability.