He has been gone eight years today.

It was his 45th birthday when the Lord decided it was time for my cousin to go home. He had spent his life as a missionary, loving people to Jesus in Venezuela. It had not been a life wasted.

But by our standards, it was too soon.

A year later, I was driving down the road when this song came on the radio. Soon my eyes blurred and I fully realized what Jim’s life had meant to me.

But when I think of all who’ve gone before
and lived a faithful life
their courage compels me…

And when the saints go marchin’ in
I want to be one of them.

Though his death was not one of persecution or in the line of duty, as it were, it was difficult to bear. So many questions we may never find answers to on this side of Heaven. Perhaps it’s not for us to know or understand why the Lord chose when He did.

But there’s one thing I do know, and it’s that when the saints go marching in, I want to be one of them. Right next to Jim.

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