Not Growing Old

They say that 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 shell in which I dwell

Is growing old, I know full well...

But I'm not the shell!

What if my hair is turning gray ?

Gray hair's honorable, they say.

What if my eyesight's growing dim ?

I can see to follow Him !

Who sacrificed His love for me

Upon the Cross of Calvary.

What should I care if Time's old plough

Has left its furrow on my brow ?

Another house---not made with hand---

Awaits me in the Glory Land!

What though I falter in my walk ?

What though my tongue refuse to talk ?

I still can tread the narrow way.

I still can watch, and praise and pray !

My hearing may not be as keen

As in the past it may have been.

Still I can hear my Savior say

In whispers 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 Scriptures say,

Is growing stronger every day !

Then how can I be growing old,

When safe within my Savior's fold ?

`Ere long my soul shall fly away,

And leave this tenement of clay.

This robe of flesh I'll drop…and RISE

To seize the Everlasting Prize !

I'll meet you on the streets of gold

And prove that I'm not growing old !

(Author unknown.)

"But though our outward man perish,yet the inward man is renewed day by day."

2 Corinthians 4: 16...