Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Life's Railway to Heaven

My Dad is tired. Though the will to live is there, it appears the strength is not. One day he feels good and the next he cannot eat and sleeps much of the day. His banjo rests while his harmonica lays silent. He runs tape recordings of himself playing the old gospel songs... Do we hold on or do we let go? I find myself wanting to do a little of each, not wanting to say goodbye and yet knowing that the time must come. I wonder, does he hear the train whistle blowing?

Life's Railway to Heaven

Life is like a mountain railroad,
With an engineer that’s brave;
We must make the run successful,
From the cradle to the grave;
Watch the curves, the fills, the tunnels;
Never falter, never quail;
Keep your hand upon the throttle,
And your eye upon the rail.

Chorus:
Blessed Savior, Thou wilt guide us,
Til we reach that blissful shore;
Where the angels wait to join us
In thy praise for evermore.

You will roll up grades of trial;
You will cross the bridge of strife;
See that Christ is your conductor;
On this light’ning train of life;
Always mindful of obstruction,
Do your duty, never fail;
Keep your hand upon the throttle, and your eye upon the rail.

You will often find obstruction;
Look for storms of wind and rain;
On a hill, or curve, or trestle.
They will almost ditch your train;
Put your trust alone in Jesus;
Never falter, never fail;
Keep your hand upon the throttle, and your eye upon the rail.

As you roll across the trestle,
Spanning Jordan’s swelling tide.
You behold the Union depot
Into which your train will guide.
There you’ll meet the Superintendent,
God the father, God the son
With the hearty, joyous plaudit,
“Weary pilgrim, welcome Home!”

6 comments:

  1. Today was one of the better days. I sat on a chair in his bedroom while he laid on his bed and reminisced about his days in the work place. It was really nice to hear him telling all kinds of stories. I never got bored. I had barged in his room right when I got there and at one point told him that if he wanted to take a little rest that we could talk a little later, but I was glad when he told me that he wasn't tired. After an hour or so he got up and made some coffee while I picked the veggies from his garden. Then we sat on the porch for a bit, mom, dad, and I. Their backyard is strangely silent these days since they stopped feeding the birds when all this started. It's kind of sad. I told mom that I'm going to buy them some bird seed. Tonight when I called to check on them they were just getting ready to play a game of marbles.
    One of my biggest fears is that when dad is gone, I might forget something about him. I want to remember everything.

    ReplyDelete
  2. my heart aches for all of you.
    hugs and prayers.

    ReplyDelete
  3. What is your Dad's name? I always pray for "Martha's , Rachel's and Priscilla's Dad, but don't know his name. I know God knows...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Martha ~ What a wonderful song..and picture of your dad.

    I loved Rachel's comment...Oh how my heart loves you girls and your love of your Dad.

    You will remember... you won't forget.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I'm glad it was a good day. When I was there on Tuesday, it was not a good day. Yesterday I was not there, but it was an emotional day for me.

    ReplyDelete