Holy

Readers,

Happy Resurrection Sunday! 

Are you joyful today in the knowledge of the hope that is within you because of what Christ has done for us? I woke up really excited this morning, and I hope you were as well. 

There is so much to celebrate on a day like today, and the victory of Christ's resurrection presents itself as a new rejuvenation every time we are brought to the moment of contemplating what it means.

I set out to write a poem on Resurrection Sunday, and what it means to the believer, but I was thinking to myself, "Maddie, the Resurrection speaks for itself, and it's all about Christ, so just simply talk about Him!" So what you find here is simply a recounting of the events, given from a heart of wonder and submission. Needless to say, I was humbled and grateful through every line and every word, wondering all the time how in the world I, so undeserving, was given such a gift. 

May you continue to worship as the sun sets on this day of joy. But I charge you, as fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, do not wake up tomorrow and think that the celebration of the Resurrection is over. Every breath you take is a representation of that same victory, and the hope of eternal life we celebrate in worship every Sunday is more so reason to rejoice. 

With all my heart, I pray God bless you~

Holy

He knew from the moment He set foot on earth

His life would be judged at the instant of birth

He lived perfectly sinless, righteous, and just

Yet, gave of Himself, because He knew that He must

He was perfect

He grew older and learned, yet all the time knew

Closer and closer, His time of death grew

The time of rejection, when He would become

Rejected and suffering, dying, alone

He was willing

Cared he not, for the pain of the death

Nor did he cling to His life’s final breath

He wanted not to be by His Father rejected

While with all our sin, He would be inflicted

He was holy

Upon the cross, the pain of the hours

It seemed the time of Lucifer’s power

Jesus’ cries were forsaken, yet His tears were for me

Because I WAS WHY He was hung on the tree

He was love

Every inhale and exhale, He pulled the flesh from his hands

His lungs filled with blood and it spilled on the land

Yet FORGIVENESS was all that He spoke in my stead

Then “It is finished!” He cried and then hung His head

He was sacrifice

He was pulled from the cross, burdened no more

He had paid it all, by closing death’s door

He was wrapped, He was mourned, and quietly entombed

It seemed as if hope had gone, and love was consumed

He was dead…

Upon a third day, the joy and the light

The dawn had come with the glorious sight

The stone rolled away, with a rumble and shake

The power o’erwhelming like an ominous quake

He had power!

Folding the wrappings aside, and walking out in new life

He had conquered the punishment and ended death’s strife

Victorious was He, and true to His Vow

Bespoke He His rising, Risen is He now!

He has Risen!