In the silence that falls on my spirit
When the clamor of life loudest seems,
Comes a voice that floats in tremulous notes
Far over my sea of dreams.
I remember the dim old vestry,
And my father kneeling there;
And the old hymns thrill with the memory still
Of my father’s voice in prayer.
I can see the glance of approval
As my part in the hymn I took;
I remember the grace of my mother’s face
And the tenderness of her look;
And I knew that a gracious memory
Cast its light on that face so fair,
As her cheek flushed faint—O mother, my saint!—
At my father’s voice in prayer.
‘Neath the stress of that marvelous pleading
All childish dissensions died;
Each rebellious will sank conquered and still
In a passion of love and pride.
Ah, the years have held dear voices,
And melodies tender and rare;
But tenderest seems the voice of my dreams—
My father’s voice in prayer.
This poem was written in 1901 by May Hastings Nottage, she celebrates the cherished memories of a grown woman tenderly recalling from childhood the voice of her father in prayer. My dear church family, we as parents will be remembered by our children for something. The best thing we can be remembered for is that we drew them near the Savior Jesus Christ. Happy Father’s Day dear church! Pastor Mark Morton