One Soul Gone Home, One Voice Still Singing”: Guy Penrod’s Gospel Tribute Stills the Chapel at Jimmy Swaggart’s Funeral
Guy Penrod stepped forward slowly, every movement deliberate, his worn Bible tucked gently under one arm. With the other, he rested his hand on the pulpit—the very place where Jimmy Swaggart had once thundered about grace, redemption, and the fire of the Holy Spirit. The chapel was packed, but no one made a sound. Preachers, singers, saints, and sinners alike filled the pews, their hearts bound together by a common thread: they had all been touched, in one way or another, by the voice now silenced.
Guy didn’t speak at first. He didn’t rush the moment or fill it with words. He simply closed his eyes and let the stillness breathe. The hush in the room felt holy—like something ancient and sacred had settled over the congregation.
Then, without a single instrument, his voice began to rise.
“Jesus, hold my hand… I need Thee every hour…”
It was a hymn Jimmy Swaggart had sung thousands of times in tent revivals, on global broadcasts, at altar calls where souls wept and hands were raised. But this time—this time, it felt different. It wasn’t just a song. It was a homecoming. A benediction. A gentle escort from earth to eternity.
Guy’s voice, deep and sure, carried the weight of history and affection. Each word rang with reverence, every line delivered with the quiet strength of a man who understood the power of both Scripture and sorrow. And when he reached the final line, his voice trembled—not from nerves, but from love.
“Blessed Jesus, hold my hand…”
The note lingered in the rafters like incense, suspended between heaven and earth. And for a moment, it felt as though the veil had grown thin, as if Jimmy himself was just beyond the sound, singing one last chorus with his old friend.
There was no applause. No movement.
Only the sense that something eternal had passed through the room.
One soul gone home. One voice still singing.
And in that sacred silence, Guy Penrod didn’t just offer a tribute in song—he offered it in Spirit.
Because sometimes, the most powerful sermons aren’t preached.
They’re sung.