He is Risen (Easter)


When the world woke up that day, Hope had come alive.

And the dead rock was pushed away,

the heavy weight lifted like a feather with the resurrection’s power.

“He is risen!” sighed the breeze He breathed again.

No more grieving—the women, first fearful, now knew

the Son of Man went before them

in death to life.

Don’t look for the Living among the dead.

~~~

” We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” – Romans 6:4

Advertisements

The Jesus Who Came (Palm Sunday)

It’s been too long since I’ve posted! Hopefully, I’ll be back to my semi-regular posting now. I wrote most of this poem a couple Palm Sundays ago, contemplating how Jesus—knowing a brutal death awaited Him in Jerusalem—still chose to enter the city. Hosanna! Salvation is coming!

Bound for death, bound for glory,
bound for a redeeming story,
lowly and lovely, my Jesus came.
On the road to Jerusalem, surrounded
by twisted “hosannas” from future betrayal,
His unpleasant object known, yet he came.

Bound for death, bound for glory,
bound for a redeeming story,
love on His mind, my Savior came.
On the back of a donkey, worshipped
by earnest “hosannas” from sinners, desperate
for a glimpse of the Messiah who came.

Bound for death, bound for glory,
bound for a redeeming story,
for sinners still, my Jesus came.
On a cruel wooden cross, crucified
by a mocking people for whom He died
Even then, even though, He came.

Bound for death, bound for glory,
bound for a redeeming story,
to reconcile, my Jesus came.
On the throne of heaven now, majestic,
by the Father’s right hand sits He who lives.
Praise the Lord, oh my soul, that He came.

Bound for us, bound for glory,
bound for a redeeming story,
to make anew, my Lord will come
Like a thief in the night, He’ll return,
and may our hearts continue to fully yearn.
Praise the Lord, oh my soul, that He comes.