It wasn’t a broadcast. It wasn’t a sermon.
It was a goodbye soaked in eternity—and now, it’s echoing across the world.
Just moments ago, a pre-recorded message from Reverend Jimmy Swaggart was released to his global congregation from Family Worship Center in Baton Rouge. And what he said—softly, humbly, and full of grace—has already moved millions to tears.
Sitting beside his beloved piano, with only a weathered Bible and a cross behind him, the 92-year-old evangelist offered his final words, not with fanfare, but with faith.
“If you’re watching this,” he said, his voice a mixture of peace and yearning, “I’m already Home… but I’m still waiting for you at the feet of Jesus.”
No applause. No choir. Just a man who had run his race, whispering truth to those still running theirs.
He reflected on his life—the heights and the valleys. “I’ve made mistakes,” he admitted. “But the blood of Christ is still stronger than all of them.”
There were no excuses. Only grace.
No boasting. Only redemption.
“Don’t remember me for the sermons,” he said. “Remember me for the Savior I preached.”
He thanked his family, especially his wife Frances, his son Donnie, and his grandchildren who now carry the torch of ministry. But even more than that, he spoke directly to the lost, the weary, and the searching:
“If you think it’s too late for you… it’s not. If He reached for me, He’ll reach for you too.”
Then, gently placing his hand on the piano keys one final time, he whispered:
“Sing until your voice breaks. Preach until your knees shake. Love until Heaven opens. I’ll be waiting.”
And with that, the screen faded to black—not with sorrow, but with stillness.
A sacred hush.
Because Jimmy Swaggart’s voice may be gone… but his invitation still rings:
Come home. I’m already there. And I’m still waiting for you at the feet of Jesus.