Master, Creator, Rabboni:
You left the graveclothes for me
Because You knew I’d need the proof
Of Your total victory.
Now crushed lies the serpent’s head.
Now, sweet, rises sun’s new light.
Now I do not fear, so, the tomb
When I glimpse the Lord of Life.
For You drown out the roar of fear
And smother the whisper of doubt
And slice through the chains of my sin,
Replacing them all with the sound
Of glory.
Oh, glory!
Dear Lord, when days turn gray
Long before noon, and my hope
Fades, my dreams moved to a tomb–
Be then all my peace.
See my deepest need.
Restore in me the joy You bring
While I dwell on this lovely thing:
The thorns which pierced Your brow–
The same that’ve cursed the ground–
Have lost their power now.
Lord of my salvation,
Jesus, King of Heaven,
Christ, my manna given–
Son of my Creator,
Of good, there’s none higher,
God who came down, nearer–
Have Your deepest patience,
Mercy, and forgiveness
On my total weakness:
Me–the one who needs You
(A Blood Shield of life-true)–
Sinner, seeking life-new.
Dipped my bread in the same dish, Lord,
And could have hung from a tree–
If You had not, by grace,
Kept that offer of silver from me.
So let me not rejoice
In another’s dreadful fate
But mourn the aweful cost
Of a “friend’s” priceless mistake…
And weep also-besides
For Your tender kindness, free.
Creator God who stitches stars
Into the nighttime canvas:
Shine on me
And make me be
One who, tomorrow,
Displays Your illumination,
Somehow, a bit more gloriously.
Not so they will ooo and ah
At me, the tiny shell;
No, but that they
Would take their place
In Your redemption story.