I read the following poem to the retired ministers of the Shenandoah District and is dedicated to them with deep appreciation of their years of service to the Lord:

The phone rarely rings,

But His voice I still hear.

Heaven’s song in my ear sings.

Yesterday’s memories are dear.


Lord, help me do my part.

When I think I’m forgotten

Remind me You never depart.

For I am Your begotten.


Long ago I began to follow You.

The holy Bible has been my guide.

Every word of it is reliably true,

And today it is ever at my side.


My voice is too weak to preach,

Lord, bless my pastor with success.

I can’t stand very long to teach,

But give my pastor Your best.


I find it difficult to kneel.

I lack the strength to rise.

Still my Lord is very real,

In His loving arms I abide.


My old bones ache, I’m prone to fall,

And I don’t hear like I used to.

But my spirit still hears the call

To pray for those who serve You.


One day I’ll fall to rise no more.

The last enemy will have its way.

But I’ll rise on that Day and soar

To a new world, the eternal day.


For when You make all things new,

You will give me a crown of glory,

A new body, a new name none ever knew,

And my hair no longer will be hoary.

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