Tomorrow I'll be attending the funeral of my ex-brother-in-law, Johnny Roberts. This man has held a special, special place in my heart from the time I was a little girl. When my sister Noni married him, I was only six years old, and I was absolutely certain that very handsome young man was capable of doing NO WRONG! :)

Over the years, I figured out that Johnny was no more perfect than anyone else. He was human, like all the rest of us, and he had his share of hang-ups - perhaps, in some areas, even more than the average person. But he had a good, kind heart, and a great soul. Things didn't work out for Johnny and Noni, but our family never stopped loving him. And before he took a separate path, Johnny gave my sister the priceless gift of two sweet daughters - my beautiful nieces, Kendra and Brandi. And just for the record ... I am so proud of both of these young women, and the extraordinary love they showed their Dad during his illness!

I have to share just one special memory. When I was about fourteen, I was preparing to go on a trip with the youth group at our church. My parents were pretty poor, and I didn't have much cash to take along, but I was used to that, and I wasn't worried about it. Johnny was though. He and Noni were living with us for a short time. He was between jobs, and things were hard for them right then. Nevertheless, he was concerned about me. I'll never forget waking up sometime around dawn on the morning I left. I was sneaking around the house, trying to be quiet and not wake anyone else up as I got my suitcase to the door and waited for the church bus to come by. Before I could leave, Johnny came walking into the living room, gave me a big, drowsy hug and slipped $20 into my hand. "Buy yourself something pretty," he said, then slipped back into the bedroom - quickly, so I couldn't argue or embarrass him with my thanks. Every time I think about that, I can't help crying, because I know $20 was more than he could afford to be giving away. But that's the kind of person he was.

A veteran of the Vietnam War, Johnny spent the last year of his life in a VA hospital, slowly losing touch with reality due to a tumor in his brain. He didn't always know the people who came to see him - even his beloved girls. Sometimes he seemed to be mentally living in a past day and time. But he smiled a lot, and kept that irresistible charm that made him so likeable right up to the end.

And I find it just amazingly sweet that Johnny never forgot who Jesus is. As long as he could, he read the Bible. He prayed. And when he could remember little else, he remembered a few words to an old melody ... "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, sweetest name I know. Fills my every longing, keeps me singing as I go." He would sing the melody, even when the only words he could bring to mind were the first three: "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus..." And that's the only word that really matters, after all, isn't it?

Johnny may at times have been lonely during this life. He may have felt that he had failed and had no real reason to keep going. Perhaps he wondered about the reason for his very existence. But he doesn't wonder anymore, and he'll never be lonely again. He's resting in the presence of a God who loved him most when he was at his worst. I'm convinced the Father welcomed Johnny Roberts home with open arms and a great big, welcoming smile!

Keep an eye out for me, Johnny. I'll miss you, but I'll see ya later ...