There are certain pieces of paper that become treasures.
Not because they are rare or valuable, but because they hold the voice of someone you love long after they are gone.
One of those treasures for me is a birthday card from my father.
My dad passed away in 2016 after a difficult battle with squamous cell carcinoma of the throat. The disease took much from him physically, but it never diminished his faith, his wisdom, or his love for his family. To this day, he remains one of the wisest people I have ever known.
Before his illness became overwhelming, we shared an experience that I will carry with me forever.
In 2015, my father and I traveled to Israel with his church choir. For a lifelong believer in Jesus Christ, it was more than a vacation. It was the fulfillment of a dream. He walked where Jesus walked. He stood in places he had read about in Scripture for decades. He sang hymns in the land where the stories of his faith unfolded.
I remember the joy on his face.
I remember how much every moment meant to him.
Looking back now, I think he may have understood something that many of us miss. He knew that life was fragile. He knew that every sunrise, every conversation, every shared meal, every trip, and every memory was a gift from God.
Before that trip, he gave me a birthday card.
In it, he wrote a simple sentence:
“We will cherish these times for the rest of our lives.”
At the time, I smiled and thought it was a sweet sentiment.
Today, those words bring tears to my eyes.
The reason is simple.
When he wrote them, neither of us truly knew how little time remained.
One year later, he was gone.
For a long time, I read that sentence with sadness. I mourned the years we would never have together. The future conversations we would never have. The great-grandchildren he would never meet – to date, there are eleven. The milestones he would never witness.
But over time, God began to show me something different.
My father’s words were not tragic.
They were true.
We did cherish those times.
And I still do.
The photographs from Israel are no longer just travel photos. They are reminders of a father whose faith shaped my own. The memories are no longer simply stories from the past. They are evidence of God’s kindness in allowing us that season together.
When I think about the philosophy behind Chicks on the Road Publishing—the desire to live more slowly, to notice the beauty around us, to gather with those we love, and to embrace a life of faith and intention—I realize much of it was modeled for me by my father.
He understood what mattered.
Not possessions.
Not status.
Not busyness.
Faith.
Family.
Time together.
The things that endure.
His letter reminds me that none of us know how many years we have left. We assume there will be another holiday, another trip, another visit, another conversation.
Sometimes there is.
Sometimes there isn’t.
That reality isn’t meant to make us fearful. It is meant to make us grateful.
It is an invitation to cherish today’s ordinary moments before they become tomorrow’s precious memories.
My father’s life pointed people toward Jesus. His faith remained steadfast through suffering. And although I miss him deeply, I am thankful for the legacy he left behind.
Most of all, I am thankful for that simple sentence.
“We will cherish these times for the rest of our lives.”
He was right.
I do.
Every single day.
About the Author
Sherri holds an AA in Anthropology, a BA in History and Religious Studies from Albright College, and an MA in Ministry Leadership from Capital Seminary & Graduate School. She is the founder of Chicks on the Road Publishing, where she creates faith-filled resources designed to encourage women in their walk with Christ, their homes, and their family legacy.
Through storytelling, Bible studies, journals, devotionals, and memory-keeping projects, Sherri hopes to inspire others to live intentionally, preserve what matters most, and pass their faith to the next generation.
Creating from anywhere. Encouraging everywhere.