Dad's Looking Down From Heaven

DAD’S LOOKING DOWN FROM HEAVEN Dad’s looking down from heaven, and I hope he can see I’m trying to do like him in his favorite ministry. The people in the rest homes were special to his heart, Whenever he would go there he’d not want to depart. He’d sing or play some music, he’d preach as best he could, And though he wouldn’t say so, I thought he was quite good. And now God has provided a place I, too, can be Each week that I am able now in this ministry. Now every time I stand there to preach or just to sing, The memories come so often, and they are precious things. I learn so from these people whom I have come to cheer; They seem so glad and hopeful, not sad that they are here. I hold their hands and ask them, “How are you, friend, today?” And oh, so very often, I know I’ll hear them say, “I’m doing fine!” they tell me, and then I start to cry, For I know I’m much better, yet so often I will sigh. I think of all my problems, I get so burdened down, Too often I’m not smiling, too often I just frown. So by the time I’m finished with visiting each room The joy upon their faces has chased away my gloom. I don’t know who’s been blessed most; I wonder, don’t you see, Has it been those I talked to or those who talked to me? But, Dad, I hope you see me; I hope you have some pride That God’s provided someone since that day when you died To take your special burden, your special ministry And that God now has given that opportunity To one who helped you often, who sang and often preached, To now, like you did visit, these special folks to reach. Somehow I think in heaven when we are gathered there, The ones so oft neglected, the ones we showed we cared Will make a special journey just to thank us once again That we were such a blessing to everyone back then. Dad’s looking down from heaven--I almost see him smile-- And I cannot wait to see him when I’ve gone my last mile!