Jacob Vyn was a man I was not only privileged to know, but also to be related to. He was a short man with a short name...but he had a BIG presence. He was never one to make you feel unimportant.

The one thing I will always remember about him was the way he greeted me because it always made me feel special. As soon as he saw me, his face would light up, a big smile would stretch across his face, and he would open wide his arms and say, "There's my girl!". But now, my cheeks will never again be kissed by him. They'll never again feel the brush of his stubble. My hands will never again be held in his grip. I'll never again be in his embrace.

But I'm not sad...I cry tears of joy.

Hebrews 12:1 says, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us."

My Opa ran his race with perseverance. He never gave up. Yesterday afternoon, February 16, 2008, after running that race for most of his life, he crossed the finish line. But do you know what gives me the most comfort? Knowing that once he crossed it, Jesus was there. And I'm sure that once he saw Opa, His face lit up, a big smile stretched across His face, He opened wide His arms, and said, "Well done, my good and faithful servant!".

Now he's in the stands with the other witnesses (including my Oma and my brother) cheering on the rest of us while we continue running our own races. He gives me hope that this race is worth running. I'm not going to quit! I'm convinced it's the only way to live my life and I can't think of a better way to honour my Opa than to continue what he started.

I know that I'll see him again someday when I cross the finish line. But I'm a little envious because I can only imagine the kind of joy he's experiencing right now...

He's home.