There are many things parents hope to leave their children.
Some leave businesses.
Some leave property.
Some leave family heirlooms.
My parents left me something infinitely greater.
They gave me a taste for the things of God.
Long before I could understand theology, my parents taught me simple truths:
The Bible is God’s Word.
Prayer is talking to God.
Worship is about bringing glory to God.
Church is where God’s people gather.
Jesus Christ is my Savior.
Looking back, I realize what an extraordinary gift that was.
My parents did not merely tell me about Christ.
They gave me an appetite for Him.
Scripture affirms the importance of such an inheritance. Solomon writes:
“Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” —Proverbs 22:6
Paul reminds Timothy:
“From infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.” —2 Timothy 3:15
Timothy’s faith did not begin with Timothy. It began in a home where the Scriptures were loved.
Today, many parents avoid teaching their children about God because they want them to “decide for themselves.”
The intention is often sincere.
But as John Lennox wisely observes, choosing not to teach Christianity is not neutrality. Every child is raised within a worldview. The only question is which one.
If I had the opportunity to choose my parents, I would choose the same two without hesitation.
Not because they were perfect.
But because they loved Christ—and taught me to love Him too.
For that, I will always be grateful.
A Faith Worth Passing On
Dad spent his life serving as a minister.
In the days after his passing, people whose lives he had touched decades ago began reaching out. Some he had baptized. Others he had married. Many simply remembered a faithful shepherd who had quietly pointed them to God’s grace in Christ.
Mum spent hers at the keyboard.
Whether she was playing a magnificent four-manual pipe organ in a large church or an old upright piano in a tiny country chapel, it made no difference to her.
They were as comfortable in the smallest country church as they were in the largest one because the spotlight never belonged to them.
It belonged to Christ.
As the years passed, they walked a little slower and spoke a little softer. But one thing never faded.
Their love for the Lord.
Mum became physically frail and quietly died in her sleep on 7 May 2026.
Dad was heartbroken. After sixty-five years of marriage, he suddenly found himself on his own.
He went where he had always gone for comfort.
To God’s Word.
Sitting quietly in the morning sun, with an extra-strong magnifying glass in his hand, he slowly read the same Bible that had guided and nourished him for decades.
His eyesight had grown weaker. God’s Word had not.
Its pages still brought peace.
And six weeks later, he too went home to be with the Lord.
Bread for the Journey
The kitchen in our house was one of the warmest places I knew.
Some of my happiest memories are of coming home from school—and later, returning home as an adult—to the smell of beef, gravy, and roasted potatoes waiting on the table.
Those meals nourished my body, but there was more going on around the table.
God’s Word was read, loved, discussed, and believed.
That was spiritual food that has sustained me ever since — through joy and through sorrow, through certainty and through questions.
Jesus said:
“Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” —Matthew 4:4
My parents gave me both.
Bread for the body.
And bread for the soul.
For that inheritance, I will be grateful for the rest of my life.
Thank you, Mum and Dad.
Until we meet again.
There are moments in life that divide everything into before and after. This has been one of them.
All of this unfolded as I walked through the book of Romans. Paul’s letter has become forever woven into the story of my mum and dad, and I know that each time I return to it, it will bring back tender memories filled with love and gratitude.
Thank you for your kindness, your prayers, and for staying with me.
I am deeply grateful.
I look forward to returning to our journey through Romans with Romans 11 next week.
If you’d like, I also wrote this:
My parents took me to church, but that’s where my spiritual support ended.
I love that your parents introduced you to God’s Word. That’s a powerful legacy gift.
I introduced God’s Word to my kiddos from the very beginning— even while God was knitting them in my womb.
My kids have their own faith journeys to travel but I’ve done my best to set them up and get them off to a good start💪🙏🏻💜