Even To the End
How cold this Sunday morning in Lent;
March winds are puffing their cheeks to blow,
And to stay under covers is temptation’s thrust,
Then I heard a TV say “body and blood” and I go.
I go to find reverence and peace and aria and love,
Surrounded I am with others whose smiles
Seem to be inspired I believe from above, and I know
That I would walk or drive for miles and miles
To be enfolded with what I carried this morning,
For year after year from my parent’s leading,
How grateful am I to them as I approach the last of this life,
He hasn’t forgotten me, continues His pleading.
I know there will be Sundays when temptation will win,
And I will weep inside for my weakness, but then
He will say to me, “I forgive you, I know your heart, and
“Lo, I am with you always, even to the end ...”
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