A legend, a legacy, a leader of men,
A lover of souls and a listening friend,
A man with a message from the throne room of God,
A prince among men, yet with commoners he trod,
It wasn’t his money, it wasn’t his ride,
It wasn’t his suit or political ties,
Yes, he was a member of the Holiness band,
But he’d say, “I’m an Okie, an Indian man.”
He’d fill the pulpit, not with pride and not with pomp,
But he’d squall and he’d kick, and he might even stomp.
It wasn’t his intellect or eloquent speech,
That drew thousands of people to hear the man preach.
Whether by the roadside, under a tree,
A church or a tent or wherever he’d be,
It wasn’t uncommon to hear the Lord speak,
To reveal hearts of men and cause them to weep.
With passion and power he delivered his soul,
Yet he also was known for the stories he told.
He walked and he talked with the Savior each day,
He knew the Lord Jesus in a personal way.
This prophet’s now nearing the end of his days,
While his memory has gone, his Savior has stayed.
Though it’s lonely for him and his wife, Sister Bea,
In God’s waiting room they sit patiently.
Surely they feel they’re forgotten of men,
But the deafening silence reveals the voice of a friend,
As He says, “I will never leave or forsake,
I will always be with you whate’er be your fate.
In strength or in weakness, in health or in pain,
In fanfare or forgotten, I’ll call you by name.
L. D. Moore, this is the voice of the Lord.
It’s time to come home and get your reward,
Your labor is ended, your toiling is done,
Your journey is over, your race is well run.
The angels are waiting to hear you sing,
And David will make his golden harp ring,
He’ll strike up the chord and give you your cue,
To sing that blest song that everyone knew,
Somewhere in Glory you’ll find me,
Singing and a-shouting through eternity.
                                   –Christina Gray Holm