A small white church sits at the edge of town Some people said why don't you tear it down After all, the congregation is only three or four You might as well close the church door
These few saints, faithful to the Lord Kept the door open though they could barely afford To pay the preacher, the utilities and the rest They gave from their hearts their very best
To the Lord in heaven they knelt in prayer And committed Ward Memorial church to His care He saw their faithfulness and began to bless And increased the congregation, I do confess
Brother Joe became their preacherman He was widely known as a Jesus fan The church grew and grew and grew The Lord added daily, sometimes one sometimes two
Faith and commitment to Christ the King Makes the heavens rejoice and the angels sing Ward Memorial is spreading the Good News And the Lord is rapidly filling the pews
This poem is a tribute to those faithful few And to the Lord who makes all things new May Ward Memorial continue to be a light And draw others to Jesus who makes things right.
