AP

Andrew Donald Campbell – Faithful, Honest, and full of Hope…

He was my husband. And he was my best friend, my partner in ministry, and the person with whom I shared a life of faith for fifty-four years. Grief after a long marriage isn’t loud—it is quiet, heavy, and everywhere at once. And yet, even in the middle of this—while I miss him, reach for what is no longer there, and feel the weight of silence—I choose where my heart rests: in Christ alone. This is our story… deeply human, grounded, and full of faith that has been tested, not just talked about.

Andrew loved the Gospel of Jesus Christ with his whole heart. He read widely, paid attention to the world as it really is, and worked hard to bring Scripture to life in that world. He used to say that the task was to bring the Word to the world and the world to the Word—always asking how we are to live Christianly in a broken, complicated place. That was not theory for him. It was how he lived.

Youth ministry was the joy of his life. Together we took young people—many of them street kids—on beach and bush camps, in a double-decker bus, sleeping in church halls, camping under star-filled skies with no city lights. Some of those kids had never seen the ocean, never stood in the dark bush and looked up at the stars. Andrew believed that wonder, adventure, and truth belonged together. He wanted young people to know that following Jesus was not boring and not for the faint-hearted.

He was a great teacher because he made faith real. Whether in a pulpit, a classroom, around a campfire, or at the kitchen table, he brought Scripture into everyday life. He wanted people to know that the Bible is trustworthy, that Jesus is real, and that what we believe must shape how we live.

He loved our family deeply. Our home was marked by prayer, the reading of God’s Word, and the joy of being together. As a grandfather he was endlessly creative—games, inventions, wild adventures—and yet he always drew us back to what mattered most: prayer, love, and pointing hearts to Christ.

One of Andrew’s favourite lines was this:
“What is, is not what was—and what is, is not what will be.”
He meant that this broken world is not how God created it, and it is not how it will end. That truth shaped his ministry, his courage, and his hope.

I grieve him. Fifty-four years of shared language, shared habits, shared faith, shared history, and shared ministry—when that is taken suddenly, it leaves a silence no words can fill. Love makes loss hurt. But I am not crushed by grief. I hold sorrow and joy together, because I know where he is. He is with God now, beyond time, and at peace. What has been taken from me—and from all he served—is real. But I hold onto Christ and his promise of eternal life, which is stronger still.

Andrew never wanted attention on himself. He always pointed to Jesus. If anything of his life remains, I pray it is this: that people would love Christ more deeply, trust God more fully, and live with courage in a world that is not yet what it will be. We have a voice. My Andrew lived for that hope.

And I will go on holding it in Joy. 

– Anne Campbell