In the name of God, I, being of sound mind and body, bequeath to my children the small store of wealth and the few possessions I have been able to accumulate over a lifetime of labor. I divide these equally among my children and ask them to accept it all with my blessings—to keep it or to give it away as they see fit.

Of infinitely greater value, I bequeath to them all the fervent prayers I have made for their salvation and their sanctification—prayers I began to pray before they were born and prayers I continued to pray until the day of my death.
I bequeath to them the Christian religion that has encouraged and sustained me for so many decades. This is the faith that has given me so much joy and comfort since Christ became my Lord and Savior, the faith they heard from my lips and the faith they learned by my example. I trust that it will bless them every bit as richly as it has me.
I bequeath to them the love of a father who, though imperfect, loved them truly and purely—who loved them in a pale but purposeful imitation of the perfect love of the perfect Father.
I bequeath to them the hope that they may imitate whatever in me was true, honest, just, pure, lovely, and worthy of praise. And equally I bequeath to them the hope that they may eschew any errors I made, that they may avoid the sins they saw in me, that they may be holier and godlier than their father ever was.
I bequeath to them the sure confidence of a glorious family reunion when their pilgrimage, like mine, comes to its end and when together we shall meet again to inherit riches innumerable and eternal.
And finally I bequeath to them the one possession that symbolizes all of this—the Bible we read from through so many years of family worship. May it remind them of the days we gathered as a family to read and to pray, and may it continue to be a lamp to their feet and a light to their path that illumines the way to heaven.
In the name of the God who created me, the Savior who redeemed me, and the Spirit who sanctifies me—the triune God whom I call as witness—I make this a Christian father’s last will and testament.

Inspired by The Wedding Ring by De Witt Talmage

Canada’s Thanksgiving weekend has just come and gone and we ourselves have just come and gone—we are on our way home from a brief trip to Louisville, Kentucky, where we spent some time as a family. We very much enjoyed our few days with Abby, with Ryn (Nick’s fiancée), and with Nate, (Abby’s fiancé).

Yes, my Abby is engaged! Nate asked her to marry him at just about the time they reached their one-year dating anniversary. He had spent some time with us this summer and asked me if he could ask her—permission I was glad to grant. Their preparations are already well underway and they hope to be married in May, then to settle down together in Louisville as they finish out their education. We are well pleased. Here’s the happy couple:

There were a couple of other key moments that took place while we were in Louisville. Shortly after Nick’s death we founded the Nick Challies Memorial Scholarship which is made is available for Canadian students enrolled at Southern Seminary and/or Boyce College who can make a good faith pledge to serve the Lord in Canada upon graduation. In other words, it’s available to students who hope to take up the kind of ministry that was so important to Nick. On Tuesday we were able to meet two of the initial recipients, each of whom happens to hail from our part of the country. This was deeply moving and brought us sweet joy.

Also, some time ago Dr. Mohler indicated that he was eager to find a way to remember Nick on the college grounds. While we were there, he led a brief ceremony to dedicate a beautiful bench in Nick’s memory. My mother, brother, and sisters were able to be present, as were many of Nick’s friends from school (many of whom wore Toronto Blue Jays hats in his honor).

I spend a fair bit of time at Southern Seminary and Boyce College and I’m so thankful to now have a particular place I can go to remember my precious boy.

The anniversary of Nick’s death is now less than three weeks away. It is hard to believe that it has been almost a year since that night, almost a year since our hearts were so badly broken. The time has gone so quickly and so slowly (as I’ve expressed here)—it has been a dash, a blip, a vapor, yet just as truly a slog, a marathon, a long and wearying journey. We don’t know what to expect as the anniversary approaches, except this: God will be good, kind, and present. We love Him more than ever and are grateful for all of his blessings.

It’s Thanksgiving today here in Canada. Because we like to get this holiday out of the way long before the Christmas season begins, we celebrate it in early October as opposed to late November like our neighbors to the south. But apart from the different date and the different national history, it is otherwise much the same in its purpose, meaning, and even menus and rituals. We are particularly pleased this year to have my sister and her family visiting us from the US now that the borders are back to a state of normalcy (when entering Canada, at least—there are still restrictions when entering the US).

I have just returned from a week spent a few hours north of the city where I was able to settle into a little house by a lake to work on some writing projects. That involved final edits to the second volume of the “Words from the Wise” series of devotional books. This one is titled Understanding and Trusting Our Great God and will be released in July. Like Knowing and Enjoying God before it, it combines brief devotionals with “SquareQuote” graphics similar to the ones I share through social media each day. The theme of this volume is the character of God and its purpose is to convince people to know God and, thereby, to love and trust him. It is based on that most beautiful answer from the Westminster Shorter Catechism: “God is a spirit, infinite, eternal, and unchangeable, in his being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth.” I’ll have more to say about it soon. I’ll also have more to say about the project I began—a project that should lead to a book that will release in 2024. I am very thankful to have been able to escape from the city for a while to a location that is serene and inspiring.
On that note, I’m so thankful to know God. I’m thankful that I was introduced to him from a young age and taught about his character and works. God has been so kind to me and to my family through these past two difficult years and so present with us. I don’t know how I could have endured sorrow and loss without knowing him, trusting him, and deeply depending upon him. If there are any stories to be told about Nick’s life and death, or any stories to be told about the two years since he went to be with Jesus, God has to be the central figure in them all. He’s proven himself a kind and loving Father again and again and again.
And that leads to this: I’m thankful to have an object for my gratitude. I’m grateful that I do not need to merely feel thankful, but that I can actually give thanks—give thanks to the one who is the giver of all good gifts. If I couldn’t direct my praise and thanks to him, I sometimes think my heart would burst and sometimes think it would shrivel up and whither altogether. I suppose the latter option is probably the more likely one. I thank God that I can thank God.
Finally, I’m thankful for the beauty I was able to enjoy in northern Ontario—beauty that increased throughout the week as more and more of the leaves turned vibrant shades of yellow, orange, and red. The color peaked on the very day we made a long but dawdling drive home—a drive I mapped out as I scoured Google Maps’ satellite view for deciduous forests. That was the right decision! A couple of days prior I witnessed one of the most wondrous sunsets of my life—a sunset so beautiful that it couldn’t help but provoke worship and awe. As is my custom (and hobby) I snapped a few photos along the way. If you’d like a glimpse of some beauty, then perhaps you can give them a look. (Note: a few of these were actually taken a few weeks back closer to home.)