My uncle Butch passed away last night. He's the one in the white shirt (top left). The others are the four sisters, the one in the red jacket is my mom, and Uncle Bee is in the dark jacket. He was in desperate need of a liver transplant, but didn't know it. (He did get one and is doing just dandy by the grace of our LORD God.) The four girls are still going, not as strong as before because we all get older.
It was very sudden and my aunt barely had time to call the ambulance. However, our life here is such a fleeting thing, barely time for getting old and then we go on to our eternal life with Jesus; that is if you know Jesus as your Lord and Savior. Today, there is a great rejoicing and reunion of the four brothers.
How precious is our time together in the here and now. I can remember as teenagers my cousins and sister and I were sitting on Grandma Burgess's front porch. Uncle Butch stomps by. He was trying to fix the discus so he could turn the ground. Someone (I'm not admitting anything, but it could have been me) stated, "There's nothing to do. I'm bored!"
"I think I know just the thing!" he cried, sounding just like my dad. "Wait here and I'll be right back."
My cousin said, "No telling what he'll bring back. We'd better hike it to the woods."
In a flash he was back with garden hoes for everyone. Picture five teenagers, hoes in hand, hoeing a cotton field where the rows were about three football fields long and stretched for about as far as you could see.
My sister said, "I will never, ever tell Uncle Butch I'm bored again." Nor would I. My cousin gracefully never said, "I told you so."
I will miss him terribly.
We grieve deeply because our souls are created eternal and when we are separated by death we instinctively know this state of separation is not right. The Holy Spirit within us binds us together, and when part of the body separates in physical death, it leaves a wound that won't heal until we are all together again in Heaven.
I will be absent for a few days.
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