On the Inside; Your are Not Growing Old!
In the 1990s my wife and I attended a marriage conference. One night Mr. & Mrs. Mosier, a couple that had been married over 60 years, spoke to us. Although like many husbands, I don’t remember exactly what was said, here is the poem that they read to us. And On the Inside; You are Not Growing Old, just getting better!
‘THOUGH THE OUTWARD MAN PERISH,YET THE INWARD MAN IS RENEWED DAY BY DAY
They say 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 old shell in which I dwell
is growing old I know, full well.
But, I’m not the shell.
(There’s something about me that hasn’t aged in all these years.
The same with you – have you ever thought of that.
You’re just as young as you felt when you were a child,
as long as you can remember. It hasn’t aged.)
What if my hairs are turning gray?
Grey hairs are honorable they say.
or if my sight is growing dim,
I can still 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 it’s furrows upon my brow.
Another house, not made with hands
awaits me in the Gloryland.
What ‘though I falter in my walk?
What ‘though my tongue refused to talk?
I can still tread the narrow way.
I can still watch – 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 whisper’s 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 scripture says,
Growing stronger every day.
Then how can I be growing old,
When safe within my Savior’s fold.
E’er long thy soul shall fly away
and leave this tenement of clay.
The robe of flesh I’ll drop and rise.
and seize the everlasting prize.
I’ll meet you on the streets of gold,
and prove to you that I’m not growing old.