THE LAST MILE poem [A repeat] [Sun, 5-15-22]

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith For the Years of Winter…

 

When we lived in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, each January, Bryan Bowers, the great autoharpist/folk singer, came to do a concert at The Second Sunday Folk Dance at Fortune Lake. Dean and Bette Premo, who host Second Sunday, great folk musician themselves, as well as PhD environmentalists, would invite a bunch of regulars to their house to have supper with Bryan, then sit around with instruments and have a hootenanny. [Helen’s tropical beets salad and the black bear stew of her buddy, Mountain Man Mike, were always the gustatory stars of the gathering.] Two of those regulars were John and Judy Reed, who had a four-wheel drive Subaru. We had only a sedan, and there was no way it would make the last mile of the trip to the Premo’s on Fire Lake, uphill, in the deep January snow. John and Judy had invited us to go with them, so in an email, I said that we would “…ride the last mile with you.”  Helen saw it, and liked the phrase, and said, “You should do something with that.” So I did.

 

I’LL WALK THE LAST MILE WITH YOU

On the bright white floral morning

When we could see forever

And the path was paved with blossoms for our feet

We clasped our hands together

And this is what I whispered

I’ll walk the last mile with you

 

I’ll walk the last mile with you

            Wherever this road takes us

In sunshine or in rain

In gladness or in pain

I’ll walk the last mile with you

 

On those chill still rainy mid-days

When storm clouds gathered o’er us

And the way was only mud beneath our feet

We linked our arms together

And this is what I stammered

I’ll walk the last mile with you

 

I’ll walk the last mile with you

            Wherever this road takes us

In sunshine or in rain

In gladness or in pain

I’ll walk the last mile with you

 

On this low slow lingering evening

When the light is growing dimmer

And the road is long behind our weary feet

We shall press our lips together

And with our fading breath say

I’ll walk the last mile with you.

 

I’ll walk the last mile with you

            Wherever this road takes us

In sunshine or in rain

In gladness or in pain

I’ll walk the last mile with you

 

John Robert McFarland

 I have considered Christ In Winter as a way of walking the last mile with my friends. Thank you for coming along.

I am preaching at St. Mark’s UMC in Bloomington, IN at 10:30, Eastern Daylight time, this coming Sunday, May 22. With the advent of livestreaming, you don’t have to be present to “attend.” Just go to smumc.church and click on the livestream button, from about 10:25 on. The service goes into the church archive very soon after it is over, and you can get it at any time through the livestream button or the video archive button at smumc.church.