Jim Armstrong Memorial

Scripture Reading and Prayer

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, concerning those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, in the same way, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For we say this to you by a word from the Lord: We who are still alive at the Lord’s coming will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the archangel’s voice, and with the trumpet of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are still alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words.

— 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 (CSB)

Let's pray.

Lord, we come to you this morning in genuine grief and sorrow, and also genuine hope, knowing that Jim is now currently with you and will rise to greet you first. I pray, Lord, that as we meditate on your faithfulness this morning in the life of Jim, that you would encourage our hearts and set our minds towards everlasting eternity with you. We pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.

Despite all of life's circumstances, we worship a faithful God. Let's stand and sing together. After our singing time, Nikki and Pat will come up to give their eulogies.

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

Great is thy faithfulness, O God, my Father. There is no shadow of turning with thee. Thou changest not, thy compassions, they fail not. As thou hast been, thou forever wilt be.

Great is thy faithfulness! Great is thy faithfulness! Morning by morning, new mercies I see. All I have needed thy hand hath provided. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest, Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above, Join with all nature in manifold witness, To thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.

Great is thy faithfulness! Great is thy faithfulness! Morning by morning, new mercies I see. All I have needed thy hand hath provided. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth, Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide. Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

Great is thy faithfulness! Great is thy faithfulness! Morning by morning, new mercies I see. All I have needed thy hand hath provided. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

Great is thy faithfulness! Great is thy faithfulness! Morning by morning, new mercies I see. All I have needed thy hand hath provided. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

Amen. Please be seated.

Family Tributes

Nikki:

Thank you all for being here today to celebrate the life of my father. Although I miss him greatly, I would not want him to continue suffering with pancreatic cancer, and I know he is with the Lord, whole and at peace. Knowing this brings so much peace and comfort to me and to my family.

My father loved his family and loved helping others, and I'm sure all of you who knew him know that about him. God greatly blessed me with a father that truly loved me and wanted the very best for my life.

When I was about five years old, my parents decided that they would send me to Sunday school so I could learn good moral values. I guess for some reason they thought it was too late for them, because they didn't attend church at that time. I don't remember this, but my dad told me that one day I told him and my mom that I was not going to church anymore unless they came too.

Well, my parents didn't want that. So, the next week they came with me, joined a Bible study group, and began growing in their faith. From then on, we went to church as a family. My dad joined the choir and eventually played drums. When I was older—of course, not five years old—I was on the worship team, and we played together, which was really a lot of fun, doing worship with him.

My father told me that he was very strict with me because, after all, I was his first child and he wanted me to be perfect. He was strict, but I always knew he loved me. His discipline helped me throughout my life and helped make me the person I am today. He was always there for me, ready to listen and help whenever I needed it. He loved to tease me and taught me not to be so serious and how to take a joke.

For a while, my mom worked nights, and my dad and I would help her by cleaning the house. That included the stereo blasting Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass, my dad playing mouth trumpet, and me dancing. Another one of his favorites was Roger Miller.

As his daughter, I had the privilege of helping him with many of his projects, especially when he was working on our cars. I learned a lot about brakes and changing the oil, how to repair many different types of dents, and so forth. It seemed like he could fix anything. Even when something was broken and he was able to buy a new one, he would want to fix it himself.

In fact, to this day, there's a microwave sitting on his dining room table that he was going to fix for months because he didn't want to go buy a new one. He wanted to fix that one. He just liked to fix things.

In January of 2003, after 31 years with the LA County Department of Public Works as a body and fender mechanic working supervisor—which means he ran the shop there—he retired. He had many plans for retirement. He stayed very involved in church ministries, helping family and friends, and had many car and house projects, some of which still have not been completed.

After my mom passed away in 2017, my dad, my husband, and I would all have dinner every Thursday and Saturday evening, and also lunch on Sundays after church. We also attended many concerts together and even took a couple of road trips to Arizona.

All of these activities changed in June of 2024 when he had hip replacement surgery and spent some time recovering in a convalescent home until the middle of July. In October, his pancreatic cancer was diagnosed. He spent all of December 2024 through the middle of January 2025 in the hospital fighting off three infections. We were told by a doctor that he only had two months to live. That was December 2024. God had other plans.

God is the decider of how long we all live, no matter what the doctors say. I'm so thankful for the extra time that God gave us with him. I'm also thankful that he was able to be at his house with caregivers, as he really wanted to be at home. He told me in the hospital, "Nikki, please don't send me to a convalescent home. Please send me to my house." And so, I'm thankful that we were able to honor his wishes in that way.

My dad was so determined throughout his illness to get stronger so he could get back to working on his projects around the house and, most of all, get back to church in person. He really missed being here with all of you. He loved this church and loved being here with all of you. So many of you have expressed to me how special my dad was. It was so wonderful to hear that he touched many of your lives also.

Pat Powers:

Sounds good. What a gift. Wow, look at you all. I am so proud to be here to be able to represent our family—Jim's family. I am Pat Powers, Jim's sister, and I'm here to "spill the tea."

He was always there. Just like Mom and Dad, he was just always there—me trying to keep up and him trying to leave me behind. But he was always there. Always the protective big brother, and always the chief tormentor.

Every good book requires a prologue. Now, I'm not saying Jim was an open book, but he had his moments. I'm here to share a bit of those growing up years with you.

At three years of age, my brother Jim and our mother traveled across the country by train from Arkansas to Los Angeles. World War II was on, and there was defense work to be done, and they were joining my father here. We lived in downtown Los Angeles, and the neighbors were kind. Miss Christine lived right next door, and Jim, because he was older, would go to Bible study at her house. When Jim started school, that ended for him. Churches were not within walking distance where we lived, and so Sunday school was really out of reach for us, but Miss Christine was just next door.

Our father worked a lot of Saturdays, Saturday nights playing music. When he was gone, often we would spend our Saturday evenings listening to the radio, dancing, and sometimes even eating popcorn. We were real partyers.

We moved back and forth from Los Angeles to Arkansas for many years during the first several years of his school time. Because of that, school became increasingly difficult for him. He overcame it all, however, but he was always that small, skinny kid. He always had a great sense of humor, but he was bully bait. He would come home having been beaten up, and he wouldn't fight back, until one day my dad told him he had to or they would never stop. It just wasn't in his nature.

We finally settled in Montebello. But before that, we lived in a rental house in El Monte. This house was on a deep lot, and behind that house, there was an orchard. You can imagine how deep the lot was. If we didn't bother anything in the orchard, we could go ahead and go to the back of the lot and visit the horses that were adjacent right behind it. He and I would always go together. I wouldn't go without him. It was just a special thing. As he became an adult, for a time, he became a horse owner.

Jim graduated from the Montebello school system, and he eventually married and settled in Downey, where they stayed. We were raised by small-town people, and they wanted us to understand that life. California and the world were changing so fast in the '50s.

On Saturday afternoons in downtown Los Angeles, Jim and I were given a quarter and taken to a local movie theater. It was a Saturday matinee with newsreels, cartoons, and a double feature—cowboys and Indians, always cowboys and Indians. This particular matinee had an intermission with a drawing. If your ticket number was called, you went on stage and they gave you a gender-specific gift. I was much younger and I was shy, so he took my ticket up, and they gave him a cap gun. I learned a lesson that day: shyness doesn't pay. Later on in life, he became a marksman.

Jim decided he liked Superman a lot. So, one day during a summer vacation, he decided he would swipe a bath towel off the clothesline, tie it around his neck, and try out his best Superman impression. Well, he climbed the big fig tree, to the fence, to the roof. He got in really big trouble for that, and there were no more Superman comic books for him.

As a teenager, he worked as a box boy for a local grocery store. People loved him. He was always friendly and helpful. Those were the days when the box boys would help people from the grocery store out to their car and put the groceries in the car for them. He was the only box boy who would get tips. He had to stop taking the tips because nobody else would do the extra work it took. People found him charming. They didn't know him like I did.

We were taken to a small Southern Baptist church in Montebello as kids. On Sunday morning when he was 17, he decided he was going to accept Jesus as his Lord and Savior. I was right behind him, and we both went up to the front of that tiny church of 35 people. It was life-changing. He lived his life as well as anyone to follow the teachings of Jesus.

He was a guy of few words, very much like our father—soft-spoken with a dry, silly sense of humor. There was a deepness about him. He, like our parents, was a private man. Even when he was young, at the beginning of his teens, life could have stopped after he got his driver's license. You have to get this; you'll understand a little bit more about him for the rest of his life. It didn't matter if he could drive, life could have stopped right there. His first new car was a black Chevrolet Impala. If you guys remember, they were about half a block long. I don't remember what the year was, but it was like a '62 or a '63. If you needed to talk to Jim, he was probably in the driveway polishing, cleaning, or washing that car. His love of cars was with him throughout his entire life.

As a kid, Jim was taught music. He learned guitar and drums. He wanted to join the high school marching band, and he wanted to be a snare drummer. Jim was not accepted as a snare drummer, but he was, if you can imagine this rather short, skinny kid, playing the bass drum. That was him. Once he set his mind to something, it was very difficult to change it.

Girls would make friends with me—get this one—girls would make friends with me just so they could meet him and get to know him. As his sister, of course, I did not understand the allure.

There are so many childhood stories, so many secrets we shared, so much silliness, and so many aggravations. He is terribly missed. He was stubborn and sweet. He was clueless and thoughtful. He was a mystery, just the way he wanted it.

Tributes from Friends and Neighbors

Now, we're going to have a time of remembrance. We do have an open mic right here. If you'd like to share any thoughts about Jim and his life, feel free to come up. We do have limited time, though, so feel free to make use of the mic. If you'd like to share and you don't have time afterwards, I would encourage you during lunchtime to share with different friends about different memories that you've had of Jim.

Kristen McConnell:

My name is Kristen McConnell. I am Jim's niece, Pat's daughter.

One of the things that I remember about my uncle is that there were times that I couldn't gauge him. I couldn't gauge if he was going to be happy or if he really wanted to be quiet. And I was not a quiet kid.

We had a situation where my mother had hurt herself and was in the hospital, and my uncle had shown up. I came, and I saw how serious he was looking, and I went, "How are you?" just cautiously, carefully, not trying to step on any toes. He looked at me and he went, "Oh, me?" and I went, "Yeah." And he goes, "I'm exuberant."

I was like, "I did not expect that!" His dry sense of humor would just slay me. I mean, I would laugh unreasonably hard at some of the things that he would say, and people would be nudging me, saying, "It wasn't that funny." And I said, "Absolutely it was."

I think one of the best conversations I ever had with him was about the layout of his area in Downey, because I hadn't really been there a lot and I just didn't understand how Downey worked. So, he and I spent about 45 minutes talking about Downey, Long Beach, La Mirada, and all the surrounding towns. That to me was really cool, and he was exuberant about explaining that. Ever since then, when I would ask him how he was, it was always an adjective that had something to do with the ultimate of cheer. That's how I will always remember him.

Ray:

Hi, my name is Ray. Jim was my cousin. This is just one memory I'd like to share.

I was at my niece's birthday party, and my sister did not tell me she had made a date for me. I was very upset about that; I didn't want to be on a date. Jim was there, and he sat down next to her and visited with her for me. The way he was, he could make somebody who had a permanent frown turn upside down and smile. If you knew him, he could get a smile out of you, and that's what he did. I was so thankful, but I still didn't go over there and join them. He did that for me, and I was thankful to him for it. God bless Jim.

Connie:

Hello, I'm Connie, and I knew Jim through many years of church together. He was a Sunday school teacher for my husband and myself for many, many years. He was very faithful to it and always brought really interesting things to teach us. I was very grateful for that; I did a lot of growing during those years.

We continued on with him as our teacher in a home Bible study at our house, and he was very faithful to that as well, always bringing a good message for us and challenging us to dig deeper and come up with something beyond what he was going to bring. He always made us prepare and be ready for anything, and he was good at putting you on the spot, too. If you said something, he'd say, "Show me that in the Bible." It was like, "Okay, I'm sure I can. Can I do that next week? Give me some time."

We had wonderful times around the word of God for many, many years. Most recently, in the last few years, my husband became increasingly ill. He now lives in a board and care home, but Jim and I still got together. We started meeting at his house because it was difficult for him to drive. We met on Friday nights there, even with his caretakers and all of that. He invited the young woman caretaker to come have study with us, so we got her one of the books to read. She was not a Christian—she has moved on now, and I don't know what came of that—but that's often how that happens. You just plant a seed and you water it a little bit. You don't always know where it goes or how it grows, but he was very good at that.

He had these little cards that are an IQ test. Have any of you seen those? Many of you maybe have gotten those. He was very bold to give those out to his doctor, the pharmacist, the person on the corner, the person behind him at the store. He gave me some—I asked him for a few, and he ordered 5,000! So, we split them up and we've been handing them out.

I also got a little token to give to military people; I have a heart for them. So, I would give them the IQ test and this challenge coin, and they were always grateful for that. I thanked them for their service, and I'd say, "Would you read that with me?" and they would start to read it, and it says it's an IQ test. They'd look at that, look at the coin, and look at me. I'd say, "If you fail, you still get to keep the coin, it's okay." It would get them laughing, and it was an opening for a lot of people. We handed them out in restaurants and everywhere.

After a while with the Bible study, we continued at his house. Then, at that time, my cancer was discovered, and I went through a lot with that, including chemo, and with my husband not being able to drive, Jim volunteered to drive me for all of my chemo sessions for four months, and he stuck to it.

In the meantime, his hip became increasingly more painful. As we came up to the last month, the doctors had scheduled his surgery between my fifth and final treatment. He made the doctor change that, even though he was in so much pain. I said, "Anyone can drive me," and he said, "No, anyone cannot drive you." So, he insisted on driving for the last one.

What's wonderful is at the end of your treatments, you ring the bell. You've all heard about that, right? He was right there with me when I rang the bell, and they took pictures while we were there. So, I have photos of him finishing that out with me. I noticed in the photos he's kind of leaning, and as we walked to the car, I had a walker at that time, and I thought, "Well, if all else fails, he can sit, and I'll just push him to the car." That would not have happened; he would have rolled to the car before he would have let me push him to the car! But anyway, he did that and finished those sessions with me. He helped me be brave through it all, prayed for me regularly, and helped me to really lean on the Lord to get through that time.

Now I'm here, and I am two years in on maintenance treatment, finishing up at the end of June. My numbers are great, and as far as I know, I'm cancer-free. This is a really hard day for me to think of losing him that way. We had a little saying, and I have it on my fridge. It says: "Life is tough, but God is faithful." Jim was a faithful friend, too.

Neighbor:

Hi everyone. We're Jim's neighbors, and I'll never forget, he was the first one who welcomed us. Him and his wife came over and brought us a cake. I just thought, "People only do that in the movies," but they welcomed us to the neighborhood and they were always so kind and friendly. I'm going really miss Jim.

He would always come over and tell us about what was going on. For him to be a kind of a quiet man, I don't know, I'm kind of surprised, because he knew everything that was going on in the neighborhood! I would say, "Oh, Jim, did you hear that we got a squatter down the street?" He'd go, "Oh, yeah, yeah." And then he would just tell me, "Oh, now that neighbor, this is going on with them." I was always surprised; he always knew what was going on.

He'd always have something kind to say, always wanted to pray, always worried about our neighborhood. We're just going to truly, truly miss our godly neighbor who was just kind and so devoted to the Lord. As his sister was saying, he was always so happy. I never saw him upset once. Did we ever see him upset, Roger? No, never. Even when he was sick, it was really amazing; he always seemed to be so joyful and grateful that God had extended his life. Yes, we're going to terribly miss him. I'm just grateful that we had him as a neighbor, and sad to not have him anymore.

He even had a smile on his face when he first got his dog, Brandy, because she was a wild woman. I'd see him out in the front trying to walk her, and she's pulling like crazy, and he was still smiling. I would be like, "My goodness, I'd put her in the backyard and that's where she'd stay!" But he was patient with her, and she's a beautiful soul now. Thank you.

The Gospel Hope of the Resurrection

For the record, that dog is still crazy.

We have time for maybe one more. One last person who would like to share? It appears that the pressure of being last has made you all afraid.

There are so many things I could say about Jim. I could talk about all the pancakes we ate at Norms, or the BLTs that we had from Uncle Henry's—meals where we didn't even need words because our tears and our looks were enough to communicate. I miss my friend. He was a dear friend. There were so many times that we laughed and cried together, times where I needed him and he was always there for me.

But I also know that Jim would hate all of the attention he just received. I think the thought of this many people gathered to remember his life would be literally mortifying to him. Several months ago, I remember sitting down with him when his infections were looking really bad, and we were having some serious end-of-life conversations. As we talked about death and the reality of what was coming, I brought up the thought of having a memorial service. He immediately started shaking his head, saying that he did not want the attention.

What flipped him in the conversation was knowing that there would be people here that he dearly loved who did not know Jesus. I could see the strength come back to him, with this fire behind his eyes as he looked at me. He told me, "John, preach the gospel."

I attempt to do exactly that. So, if you have a Bible, go and grab it and turn to the book of 1 Corinthians. It's the book of 1 Corinthians, in the New Testament. If you don't have a Bible, you can use a pew Bible in front of you. You can go ahead and check in your table of contents. I'm going to be reading from the big number 15, from verse 12 to 22. 1 Corinthians chapter 15, verses 12 to 22. It says this:

Now if Christ is proclaimed as raised from the dead, how can some of you say, “There is no resurrection of the dead”? If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation is in vain, and so is your faith. Moreover, we are found to be false witnesses about God, because we have testified wrongly about God that he raised up Christ—whom he did not raise up, if in fact the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is worthless; you are still in your sins. Those, then, who have fallen asleep in Christ have also perished. If we have put our hope in Christ for this life only, we should be pitied more than anyone. But as it is, Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead also comes through a man. For just as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all will be made alive.

— 1 Corinthians 15:12-22 (CSB)

Let's pray. Lord, we do pray, even this morning as we meditate on Jim's life and the reality of death, that you would help us to hope in the resurrection. We pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.

I have two points for us this morning: first, the reality of death; second, the hope of the resurrection.

The Reality of Death

Let's start with point one: the reality of death. Paul writes this letter to address this frank reality. Death is the great inevitable; it comes for us all. All of us sitting in this room right now are going to die. There's no use in denying the reality of death. It's going to happen to all of us.

There are many different responses people can have to that kind of reality. Some try to beautify death itself or romanticize the thought of life coming to an end, believing that in order for something to have meaning, it needs to have closure—that death itself teaches us to hold this life with a loose and open hand. Others will try to avoid the thought of death by thinking that we can somehow prolong our life by maximizing our VO2 max, living life to the fullest, or distracting ourselves with beautiful California weather.

The Bible is not so optimistic. You can't stick your fingers in your ears, squeeze your eyes shut, and pretend that death is not terrifying. It is an abyss from which no one has returned. It's the end, and it is tragic. In fact, if Jesus experienced death—the reality that all of us will experience—without a resurrection, Paul is making clear that you and I are all hopeless. If there's no resurrection, then Christ is dead. And if Christ is dead, then that means our proclamation is in vain, and we lie about God.

If the dead are not raised, worse than that, you and I are still stuck in our sins. The guilt that you and I have before a holy God will judge both the living and the dead. Every sin that you've ever fought in your life, every sin that you thought you had victory over, any challenge or obstacle that this world has placed in your way still grips your throat. A resurrectionless life is a hopeless life. We are all headed towards an eternity of suffering.

Paul even makes clear that if the resurrection is not true, then that means every saint who has gone before us, Jim Armstrong included, would cry out in anguish because there is no hope for them. You see, if Jesus is just some kind of spiritual pacifier for you to distract yourself for this life only, we are all without any semblance of real hope. We should all pity Jim for the life that he lived. We should pity all of us who have dedicated our lives to following Christ, because we banked all of our hope on something that was utterly hopeless.

The Hope of the Resurrection

The good news of the gospel, however, is that that isn't true. This brings us to point two: the hope of the resurrection. Read with me again from verse 20:

But as it is, Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead also comes through a man. For just as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all will be made alive.

— 1 Corinthians 15:20-22 (CSB)

See, the good news of the gospel isn't just that there's hope for this life. The gospel doesn't just offer you an opportunity to live a decent life right now, to be a good person, or to give you good morals. The bedrock of our hope isn't in improving our current circumstances, but in hoping in an everlasting one: that Jesus Christ rose from the dead.

Even though all of us deserve to die due to our sins, God in his grace sent his only Son, Jesus Christ, fully God and fully man, to live a life that you and I could never live. He was perfectly sinless, perfectly good, perfectly loving. Every area in which you and I failed, he succeeded. And even though we deserve to die in our sins, Jesus, who never sinned, died in our place.

The almighty God, rather than being hailed as king, was pierced by man, hung on a cross—we crucified him to death—and God poured out the punishment on him that you and I deserved. He paid the penalty of sin in full.

And friends, if he stayed in that tomb, if the skeleton of Jesus is still lying inside a cave somewhere, then that means that you and I have no hope. Even if he were the Son of God, he would still be paying the penalty of sin and bowing himself before the dismal inevitability of death. Sin would have conquered God, death would be our final reality, and we would be completely lost.

But as Paul says here in verse 20, "But as it is, Christ has been raised from the dead." The reality is that Jesus rose from the dead because the penalty of sin that he paid on that cross was paid in full. When he said that it was finished, he meant it. He paid that penalty in full.

And if the wages of sin is death, then Jesus conquering death itself tells you and me that the payment we owe, that debt of sin that we carry, has been completely paid for. He conquered evil, sin, and death, and emerged victorious over the grave. It is precisely because Jesus paid this penalty for sin that you and I can have hope in his resurrection.

See, for Jim, death was not the end. It's only the beginning. There were many times where Jim and I would talk on the phone, or in that back pew, or in his living room, where he would tell me, "You know, John, I don't know why I'm still here." He said that honestly because he looked around at this world and saw nothing here to hope in. He knew that where he was headed was far better.

The Lord was preparing a path for him where he knew that death was not the end, that we are headed towards an eternity with our Savior—not just because we were saved, but because we are forgiven; not just forgiven, but adopted as sons and daughters; not just adopted, but united with Christ in his death and resurrection.

Jim loved his Lord and Savior. He couldn't wait to be with him. And Jesus is the firstfruits of the resurrection. He is the first symbol of what is to come. Jim has followed in his Master's footsteps, facing death in the face and emerging victorious from the grave. In Adam, we all die, but in Christ, we live.

If you're not a Christian and you're here today, wouldn't you want this to be true? Doesn't this sound like incredible news? Because if Jesus rose from the dead, that means that everything changes. That means that this life isn't all that there is. It means life is more meaningful than the petty distractions that we throw in front of our own faces. It means the hope that you have is greater than the greatest amount of guilt, doubt, or debt that you bear on your shoulders.

Death tells us that we have all sinned. There is not a single innocent person in this room. But the resurrection tells us that you are truly, deeply, and redemptively loved by an almighty God. Jim wanted you to hear this message this morning, but more importantly, God Almighty wants you to hear this message this morning.

You can turn from your sin today. You can trust in Christ today. And not only can you find hope in this life, you can find hope in a resurrection where you will join God in glory with Christ forever.

If you have questions about what it looks like to follow Jesus, we have copies of the book What is the Gospel? in the back. We would love for you to be able to have a copy of that. Feel free to talk to me, any of the family, or any of the church members here after this service about this good news of Jesus. We would love for you to be able to turn from your sins and trust in Christ.

Our hope is in a God who goes before us, who doesn't just emerge from the dead, but conquers death itself with his blood and will come again in glory. If that's true, if what we read earlier in 1 Thessalonians 4 is true, that means Jim is ahead of us in the line, and he is now with his Savior and will join him as he descends in glory.

When that trumpet sounds and God splits the skies, we will see our Savior descend to judge the living and the dead. For those of us who have placed our hope in him, when he comes, there will not be an ounce of anxiety or panic in our hearts, even when we face the grave, because we know that if Jesus rose from the dead, he will make all things right again.

Let's pray. Lord, we do pray that you would help us to hope in this resurrection. We pray, Lord, that if anyone here doesn't know you, that they would turn from their sin, that they would trust in Christ and the work that you've done for us, and that they would find the same hope that Jim did—everlasting hope with you. We pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.

There will be a day where our faith is turned to sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll, the trump resounds, and the Lord descends. It's because of his grace that we can say, "It is well with my soul." Let's stand and sing together.

It Is Well with My Soul

When peace like a river attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul.

It is well with my soul, It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, Let this blest assurance control, That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, And hath shed his own blood for my soul.

It is well with my soul, It is well, it is well with my soul.

My sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!— My sin, not in part but the whole, Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

It is well with my soul, It is well, it is well with my soul.

Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, The clouds be rolled back as a scroll; The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well with my soul, It is well, it is well with my soul.

Let's sing that again.

It is well with my soul, It is well, it is well with my soul.

Amen.

A couple of announcements for us before we depart. Again, you are more than welcome to join us for our lunch reception. If you're interested in joining us for that, it will be straight through that door, right down the hallway. You'll see an open door leading to our education building where you can join us for a meal. The family would love to welcome you as we spend time together continuing to remember the life of our dear brother Jim.

After the benediction, we're going to ask you to be seated for a brief moment of silence while the family goes out to the foyer so you can greet them on the way out.

And now, may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all. Amen. Please be seated.