"If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy."
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Not Growing Old
They say that I'm growing old, I've heard them tell it times untold In language plain and bold; But I'm not growing old !
This frail shell in which I dwell Is growing old, I know full well... But I'm not the shell!
What if my hair is turning gray ? Gray hair's honorable, they say. What if my eyesight's growing dim ? I can see to follow Him !
Who sacrificed His love for me Upon the Cross of Calvary. What should I care if Time's old plough Has left its furrow on my brow ?
Another house---not made with hand--- Awaits me in the Glory Land! What though I falter in my walk ? What though my tongue refuse to talk ?
I still can tread the narrow way. I still can watch, and praise and pray ! My hearing may not be as keen As in the past it may have been.
Still I can hear my Savior say In whispers soft, "This is the way".
The outward man (do what I can To lengthen out this life's short span) shall perish and return to dust, As everything in nature must.
The Inward-Man, the Scriptures say, Is growing stronger every day ! Then how can I be growing old, When safe within my Savior's fold ?
`Ere long my soul shall fly away, And leave this tenement of clay. This robe of flesh I'll drop…and RISE To seize the Everlasting Prize !
I'll meet you on the streets of gold And prove that I'm not growing old !
By John E. Roberts
* Jimmy cut this poem out of a newspaper and carried it with him throughout his army days and I found it all tattered & torn in a box while I was cleaning out a closet. Laurel & Dennis found the original poem with the author and I've reposted the poem Laurel posted in the comments here. Thank you very much Laurel.