I’m sure someone warned me about one of the sadder consequences of aging: that you face loss upon loss, frequent goodbyes, and states of “missing” that leave you feeling dismantled, unclear, and strangely numb.
We lost our mom slowly, as the thief of dementia stripped away her memories and her understanding, leaving only her quick, easy smile, and a look of confusion that haunts me still. She met Jesus on my birthday in 2023, a gift that I treasure, knowing that He could have chosen any other day.
I think we all assumed that time would soon begin to erase the vacancy, the grief, but, sadly, the emptiness and the “missing” seems even more acute now than before. Some days I wish for just one more conversation with her, one more time to see her laugh uncontrollably, one more opportunity to tell her how special I think she is. I trust God’s will and His timing completely, but some days I just long to see her.
Last year, one of my best friends of more than forty-two years was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Miraculously, she stayed here for more than a year, but she is weary now, and she wants to be free of paralyzing pain. She will not likely see another August.
Reverend Jimmy Swaggart (Brother Swaggart to me) was a sort of hero to our family. He was someone from our denomination who moved the Pentecostal church from across the railroad tracks to the frontlines, and into the greatest stadiums and arenas around the world. His anointed music and preaching spoke to people of all denominations.
In March, he celebrated his 90th birthday in Baton Rouge with lots of friends and family. This morning he met Jesus. Sadly, the world already feels different without him.
Knowing that it could be painful, Jesus chose to love us. He signed on to share our emptiness. He stepped up, knowing that He would wrap Himself in our loneliness and disappointment. He knew that He would be wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities.
Jesus understood that love was costly, but He also knew that love was the only thing worth dying for.
Janet Paschal 
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