In any case, as I sit here in my small room and as the rain gently falls upon our parched desert land, I write a memorandum for one of my father's congregants. I wonder again, how the family fares and that the words my Dad will speak will offer hope.
One of the verses used brought me back to a funeral of a young friend of ours. She was fourteen and at her funeral her mother mistakenly said, "thank you for coming to my daughter's wedding." She was not corrected as it was exactly that . . . a wedding feast. And what a wedding feast it must have been as she entered into Heaven.
Psalm 116:15 "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."
In the past few years we have lost two young saints in our church, both were eighteen. And a couple of days ago another friend of mine (who I haven't seen or connected with for 20 years) brought us the sad news that her brother had been shot. Only prayer could be offered to help her get through this time.
And yet another friend, only in her late thirties, passed away from an aneurysm last month. To these precious saints I say goodbye and we will meet again one day.
Precious Memories
Precious memories, unseen angels
Sent from somewhere to my soul
How they linger, ever near me
And the sacred scenes unfold.
Precious memories, how they linger
How they ever flood my soul
In the stillness of the midnight
Precious, sacred scenes unfold.
Precious father, loving mother
Fly across the lonely years
And old home scenes of my childhood
In fond memory appear.
In the stillness of the midnight
Echoes from the past I hear
Old-time singing, gladness bringing
From that lovely land somewhere.
I remember mother praying
Father, too, on bended knee
Sun is sinking, shadows falling
But their prayers still follow me.
As I travel on life's pathway
Know not what the years may hold
As I ponder, hope grows fonder
Precious memories flood my soul.
Sent from somewhere to my soul
How they linger, ever near me
And the sacred scenes unfold.
Precious memories, how they linger
How they ever flood my soul
In the stillness of the midnight
Precious, sacred scenes unfold.
Precious father, loving mother
Fly across the lonely years
And old home scenes of my childhood
In fond memory appear.
In the stillness of the midnight
Echoes from the past I hear
Old-time singing, gladness bringing
From that lovely land somewhere.
I remember mother praying
Father, too, on bended knee
Sun is sinking, shadows falling
But their prayers still follow me.
As I travel on life's pathway
Know not what the years may hold
As I ponder, hope grows fonder
Precious memories flood my soul.
This song, for some reason, came to mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment