I had these thoughts one day after making three of four shut-in calls
Praise the LORD, who sits with the elderly,
Who is their companion in old age,
Who remembers the child playing in a field
When both child and field have seen
four score summers.
Praise the LORD, who numbers grey hairs,
Who counts that thinning wave,
Who bestows glory on wrinkles
And honors the crow’s feet,
Who dignifies dimming eyes.
Praise the LORD, who forgets not the mother
When the mother’s child is old,
Who hears the prayers of lips that mumble,
Of tongues that no longer speak wisdom,
But stammer from the void.
Praise the LORD, who sits with the elderly,
Who is their companion in old age.
In Christ,
Pastor Marty
