"Not Growing Old"

They say that I am growing old,
I’ve heard them tell it times untold
In language plain and bold-
But I am not growing old

This frail old shell in which I dwell
Is growing old I know only too well
But ......... I am not the shell....

What if my hairs are turning gray?
Gray hairs are honorable the Bible says
What if my eyesight’s growing dim?
I still can see to follow Him
Who sacrificed His life for me
Upon the cross of Calvary

What should I care if time’s old plow
Has left its furrows on my brow?
What though I falter in my walk?
What if my tongue refuses to talk?
I still can tread the narrow way;
I still can love, and praise and pray....

My hearing may not be as keen
As in the past it might have been
Still...I can hear my Savior say,
In His gentle voice This is the way

My old body though I do what I can
To lengthen my life’s short span
Shall perish and return to dust
As everything in nature must...

But the inner man the scriptures say
Is growing stronger every day!
So...how can I be growing old
When safe within my Savior’s fold?

Before long, my soul must fly away
And leave this old house of clay
...and I’ll meet you on the streets of gold
In that land where we’ll never grow old.

Words:Ethel Stinson (1884-1957)