Recently, my dad passed away. Since then, I’ve often been asked, “Why do you seem okay with this? Why aren’t you sad?” The truth is, I am sad. I miss my dad deeply in the human sense. He was a constant in my life—someone I spoke to every day. He was not just my father but also a mentor, whose wisdom, love, and quiet strength shaped me in countless ways. His absence leaves a space that will never be filled in the same way.
But for me, his passing wasn’t just an ending; it was a continuation. His story isn’t over—it’s simply moved into a chapter I can’t yet see. I believe he stepped into eternity, into a place of peace and wholeness far beyond anything we can imagine. As Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die” (John 11:25–26). That perspective doesn’t erase the grief, but it does make it bearable. It allows me to hold both sadness and hope in the same hands. I grieve the loss of his presence here but find peace in the belief that he’s now in the presence of his Creator, free from pain, worry, and all the struggles of this life.
At his graveside burial, the hymn How Great Thou Art was played, (exactly as the video below) and one verse in particular stood out to me:
“And then one day, I’ll cross the river,
I’ll fight life’s final war with pain;
And then as death gives way to victory,
I’ll see the lights of glory, and I’ll know He lives.”
Those words capture the deep hope I hold onto as a follower of Jesus. Death is not the end. As Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:8, “We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” For my dad, crossing that river meant entering into a reality more alive and fulfilling than anything we experience here. I believe with absolute confidence that his story has only just begun, and one day, I’ll see him again.
This belief shapes how I see his passing, but it also shapes how I see life here and now. His life challenges me to live with purpose, to make the most of every day, and to invest in things that truly matter—relationships, kindness, and making a difference in the lives of others. It’s a reminder of the wisdom in Colossians 3:2: “Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.”
Whether or not faith is part of your story, I think we all feel the pull to live lives that count for something bigger than ourselves. My dad’s legacy reminds me that what we do here ripples far beyond us, leaving an imprint on the lives of those around us. Every act of love, every moment of kindness, every effort to lift someone else up—it all matters.
So, I invite you to reflect on your own life. How are you living today? What will you leave behind? Are you living in a way that aligns with your values and the things that matter most to you? And perhaps the most challenging question of all: What do you believe about what comes next?
In the words of Ecclesiastes 3:11, “He has also set eternity in the human heart.” Whether we realise it or not, we all have a sense that there’s more beyond this life. These aren’t easy questions, but they’re worth sitting with. For me, they’ve become a guide for how I live. They’ve taught me to look beyond the temporary and focus on the eternal, to invest in people and in purpose, and to hold onto hope even in the midst of grief. My prayer for myself—and for you—is that we live lives full of purpose, heart, and hope, leaving a legacy that truly matters.