Slowly and with evident pain he gets out of his car, half falling on the door for support. He steadies himself with his cane for a minute or so, marshalling the resolve to will his body forward. The glint of metal braces show just beneath his dress pants and are strapped to his shoes. A clean and pressed dress shirt is tucked neatly in and a tie circles his neck. With slow, tottering steps he makes his way forward to the door.
Someone sees him and quickly moves to open the heavy metal entry door, for which this weathered soul expresses genuine gratitude. He stops and trains his eyes undimmed by age at this person. “Hey fella, how are you? God bless you!” His voice is full of warmth. Rich. Deep. The Old Man’s love for his unexpected helper is palpable. Warm smiles grace both faces, and he moves inward. His cane is hung on the door, and he leans on the walker left just inside. It’s there for him. The conversation between the Old Man and the Helper continues. He pauses in the hallway as they talk to give his full attention to the Helper.
“I’m praying for you,” says the Old Man in his baritone voice.
“Oh thank you Pastor! I know you are.”
The reply expresses the gratitude for prayer, and the assurance that when the Old Man says he is praying, he is most certainly praying. They part company and he continues slowly, sliding the walker along on its tennis balled feet to the choir loft. He collapses into his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.
When service starts there is no mistake which voice is his. His body is tired with age, but the lungs and vocal chords refuse to give an inch. His voice is powerful, but not overpowering. He holds tune and sings praises to his God with his brothers and sisters.
When service is over the love of many for him is evident and there are no shortage of conversations full of joy and love. He is tired, and it is plain to see. Concern creases the eyes of those who are near. Another helper comes, talking all the while yet standing guard lest this Sequoia of the faith stumble.
His years have seen him serve in several churches as pastor. He has been a Director of Missions, a music teacher, a husband, a consummate encourager, the mightiest of prayer warriors. If the church doors are open, he will be there. Sunday morning, Sunday evening, Wednesday nights, choir practice, committee meetings.
Time has weathered him, yet while his legs still work, while his lungs draw breath, he serves the church and thus his Lord. His lips drip with praise for God. His heart beats with compassion and love.
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This is a real man. He is someone I look up to. I cannot tell you what an encouragement he is merely by watching him remain faithful. He exchanges comfort for service. He lives to praise and give glory to God. His encouragement and promises of prayer are soothing balms to the souls of many in my church, myself included. I love him, my brother in Christ, a father in the faith.
Get to know the seniors in your church. They’ve often seen more, done more, lived more, and loved more than we have any idea of. Talk to them. Befriend them. Honor them. Rich friendships cross barriers and the church of God transcends every one of them from age to culture. We often overvalue the changes technology and knowledge have had and assume the aged can’t speak to it. We, the young, are wrong. Ignoring living wisdom is to our peril.
The Old Man is one of the most precious souls I know. There is so much I want to learn from him. He embodies Proverbs 16:31, and I am grateful to God he is a member of my church.
“Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life.”
