Torn

We had a wonderful vacation (which I will post about soon, I promise), but in the midst of the fun, I got an email that left me feeling, well, torn.

Bob Pemberton, a missionary in Zimbabwe who was only 52, died of a heart attack.  I have known Bob since I was little.  He is one of the first missionaries I ever knew.  I have memories of him eating dinner at our house and telling stories, teaching us songs and dances, and telling us about the amazing ways God works through us if we just let him.

I had several opportunities to spend time with Bob and his amazing wife Nancy.  And every time it was so good to catch up with them.  It was so inspiring to see that there is so much more God has planned than this "American Dream" we all try to chase after.

So, on the one hand my heart is a litle broken.  I think about how Nancy, and their children, and their grandchildren.  I think about how much the church in Cheredzi will miss Bob. I think about how 52 is way too young to die.  And then I think about where Bob is now.  He is celebrating in Heaven.  He is walking with God.  And I can't be sad about that, can I?

If you're reading this today, please take time to realize how short life is, how wonderful God is, and how others need to know that too.