That mighty branch on our family tree was a virtuous
man of seventy-three. The Bible was the light and sparkle to his soul, his
Christian faith was shaken not, as he journeyed to his goal.
~~~~
As
a farmer, he'd ask God to let it rain, for the thirsty cotton and the little patch
of grain. Credit given to God, as the crops fruitfully grew never forgetting
to say 'thank you' as some men do.
~~~~
Hail storms hit, the crops
were gone, financially indebted, A tragedy this was! But remaining steadfast,
he humbly accepted. Knowing that the Lord looks after His own, Pop was
willing and able to press on.
~~~~
The decision was made to move into
town, still independent, wanting to work not settle down, willing in spirit
but his body said 'no.' We heard him say he was on his last row.
~~~~
No
earthly riches or great fame, Pop's life was lived in Christ's dear name. His
treasure chest was lined with hope, filled with love. This was his blessing from
God above.
~~~~
Like as a farmer on that last row, he had won the
victory and was ready to go, that was the night this dear life went on, 'twas
amazing grace that led Pop home.
View My Guestbook
