I still remember well when we first met you, when you were a college student and borrowed our not-so-good car and you and your dad went out on the town, two guys having fun together. That’s when your dad was coming to the USA a lot, staying with us many times, and our family feeling like he was a grandpa to us.
I think the two holiest times in life are birth and death. In birth, it’s painful and messy, but with a sense of awe that life is coming into the world, a person made in the image of God. In death, it’s painful too, yet with a holy awe of realizing a person is transitioning to glory. 2 Corinthians 5 talks a lot about our body in this world being nothing compared to the glorious one in the next: “meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling.”
I also remember well when your father left PI and started JVI, not as a young man, but putting his trust in Bible stories about people who were given strength in their later years. Certainly all that he hoped to do was accomplished.
Our love to you and your family, Auntie Mary, and your sisters and their families, from Martha and I.