There is a lesson that is very important to share that happened when my mom passed away. The horrible thing about it wasn’t her passing—as I understand it, heaven is a wonderful place. The horrible thing about it is the fact that for the past five months I have called my dad everyday to check on things. This day I not only did not call, I didn’t have the phone anywhere near when he called me five times to tell me of her passing. I tell you this not because I am venting my anguish, even though it did bother me that I didn’t have the phone nearby. I was in the car within the hour driving all night to get there when my dad got up the next morning. I am writing this because of the lesson that it teaches. This journey is about discovering the indescribable beauty of a personal relationship with Abba God. This is why I appreciate the book The Shack. Despite the controversy surrounding it, the image that it paints of having a personal relationship with the godhead makes it worth the read. This relationship is intense, so personal and yet so fragile. For five months I had been building this kind of relationship with my dad. Daily I would call. It got to the point that he expected the call as much as I expected to make it. Like any relationship it started out on the surface, but gradually went deeper and deeper. There came a point that he began telling me close personal things that were bothering him. It became pretty intense. This is how it is meant to be with our relationship with the Father. It starts out slow and tentative—at least on our part—but as we stay with it, grows deeper and deeper. There comes a point that He is telling us things that are close and personal. This is like the story in the Old Testament of Enoch. The scriptures do not give us any details about the relationship he had with God only to say that he walked with God and God took him—the implication is to heaven. It is a powerful story that cannot be learned without personal experience. The day my mom passed away I had been studying for my exam. Early that evening—just before the time I usually call my dad—we had a special family meal followed by an early movie night. I had intended to call him, but forgot once we got into the family function. My sister actually sent a text to my wife asking her to have me get in touch with her. Once she told me of the text, I knew immediately what had happened. That is when I began packing. Consider this. The Father was trying to get in touch with me. He tried and tried, but I was simply not available. It was so important that we talk, that he made sure someone get in touch with me who would get the message to me. Can you see how powerful that is? God or Father doesn’t get mad or angry with us. He simply uses another method to get in touch with us. It was important. When I showed up at my dad’s doorstep the next morning—I didn’t call him because of the late hour—he didn’t scold me for not answering my phone. In fact no words had to be expressed at all. We simply embraced and cried on each other’s shoulder. The point to be grasped is that not one heartbeat was spend on the past—why didn’t you, or I am so sorry… From the moment that he opened the door until now, we have only looked forward. That is the lesson. Our Father certainly accepts our repentance, but he does not dwell on the past, nor does he want us to do the same. He is looking and longing for a deep personal relationship that lives in the moment and looks forward. What an awesome thought. What a wonderful Father. What a happy reunion we will one day have!