From 2015 to 2025, Jimmy Swaggart was no longer the youthful evangelist filling stadiums. He was something more tender — a man who had walked through fire, who had stumbled, wept, repented, and kept going. In his final decade, he did not seek to reclaim old fame or stir controversy. Instead, he worshiped.
It was in those quieter moments, seated behind his beloved piano at Family Worship Center, that his truest ministry continued. Each note he played, each hymn he sang, came from a heart that had been broken and rebuilt by grace. Songs like “There Is a River”, “I’ll Never Be Lonely Again”, and “Jesus, Just the Mention of Your Name” weren’t just performances — they were testimonies.
By the mid-2010s, it became clear that time was catching up with the preacher. His hands trembled. His gait slowed. His voice, once a lion’s roar, softened into a cracked whisper. But when he sat at that piano and began to sing, something divine seemed to pass through him. Worship wasn’t what he did — it was who he was.
Thousands around the world — from Baton Rouge to Brazil, from lonely living rooms to small country churches — continued to tune in every Sunday morning, not for show, but for those sacred moments when Jimmy would close his eyes and lose himself in a hymn. He was singing to Someone he knew deeply. Someone he would soon meet face to face.
Those closest to him knew — especially in the last year — that each service might be his last. And yet, he kept showing up. Weakened in body but unwavering in spirit. “I just want to sing one more,” he told his staff one evening after a particularly long taping. And he did. He always did.
On July 29, 2025, Jimmy Swaggart passed away peacefully at the age of 90. No dramatic spotlight. No final sermon. Just the gentle closing of a life that had been poured out in both glory and grace, failure and forgiveness.
In the days following his passing, the messages flooded in — from missionaries, widows, former addicts, and lifelong believers. Not just mourning a preacher, but honoring a man whose worship helped carry them through the darkest nights.
His legacy is complex, yes. But this much is certain:
Jimmy Swaggart never stopped singing.
And the songs he left behind — filled with brokenness, redemption, and longing — will echo in eternity.
He will be missed.
Very dearly.