My Grandpa died this morning. We think he was descending the stairs from the room at the back of his house where he used to go and pray. He must have lost his footing on the stairs, fallen and hit his head.

It’s strange talking about him in the past tense. Just a few weeks ago I was with him, sat, metaphorically, at his feet, asking questions about calling and living to the full. Thomas Ronald Morgan was a unique man, genuine, humble and passionately in love with Jesus. He loved people and chose to see the best in them, even when some would consider him naïve to do so. Towards the end of his life, he nursed my Grandma as her Alzheimer’s progressed, modelling the kind of unwavering love that you really don’t see every day.

My Grandpa was both an inspiration and a friend and he will certainly be missed.

When The Roll is Called Up Yonder
When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound, and time shall be no more,
And the morning breaks, eternal, bright and fair;
When the saved of earth shall gather over on the other shore,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.

When the roll, is called up yon-der,
When the roll, is called up yon-der,
When the roll, is called up yon-der,
When the roll is called up yonder I’ll be there.

On that bright and cloudless morning when the dead in Christ shall rise,
And the glory of His resurrection share;
When His chosen ones shall gather to their home beyond the skies,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.

Let us labour for the Master from the dawn till setting sun,
Let us talk of all His wondrous love and care;
Then when all of life is over, and our work on earth is done,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.
(James M. Black)