The truth and power of our faith hangs on the cross,
on the height of sacrifice,
on the lengths and depths Christ was willing to go
from holy conception to physical resurrection
from Passover supper to Emmaus meal,
to fish on the beach, to the promise of a feast
at his Father's family table.

The truth on which we stand hangs on God made man
and on us made new, all due to our LORD Jesus Christ,
God's most loved Son, our loving Saviour,
our once and for all time holy, acceptable sacrifice.

The truth and power of our faith
hangs on His cross
but now stands on a rolled away stone,
revealing the empty space
that left Roman minds blown.

The truth is, the power of God is an early riser
and loves a walk in a garden
whether at the dawn of time
or before dawn on an Easter Sunday morn-ing.

The truth is, Jesus didn't waste time,
but got up early to be Mary’s before dawn guide
who promptly anointed his feet in tears one more time
(but he didn’t seem to mind)

and she spread the news
that the Truth was up and walking
way before the doubts and lies got talking.

She told them
the truth is, there's no need to rage against the coming of the night
for Jesus entered death’s domain with his pure and living light.
And before sunrise, he rose in plain sight.

The truth is,
Jesus is the Way and the Truth and New Life
and He walks with you in the early-morning Easter Light.

So rise, let your song and your life
glorify the living Christ
and share his creation-wide invite.

And tell them this truth:
Jesus is Alive.

And the people said in one voice, Amen.

"I am a victim of circumstance."
Are we not all?
Play not devoid
But freely strum the chords
Of sympathy and even empathy,
Far from pieces which are familiar,
For situations one might sparsely fathom.

When someone's fallen
Reach out a hand to help them up
Even if it slows you down,
Even when it is not expected.
For when is a fall the expectation?
And who among us is the exception?

Reflect, act, remark.
If I am to cross the line which signals finish
It will be knowing you
Have completed the marathon.
Having waded the haze that is "competition,"
In a day & age where that means so little
And should still mean less,
I will have been obscured by nothing.
For in that trek, I won;
In the journey of the sport of love
I went the distance for a companion.
When I knelt,
I chanced a "prize"
But it was you who made me champion.

He is risen,
stone rolled away from tomb
He is risen,
death no had longer it's rule
He is risen,
above it all, above the doom

The Lord Jesus is risen.

Like a phoenix from the ashes,
I will rise
up from this mess.
This test will not distress
me for long.
Gone are the days of
warped god living,
giving my soul to the
sun baked afternoons by
the lake.
I will take all
the **** that the
enemy has to offer,
with a smile, and ask for more.
This season will only
last a little while.
Spring will
return, and when they
burn my world, I shall
rise, like a phoenix
from the ashes.

After the Rose had shattered like glass
painting the fragility of a gift untouched
his body begins to drown in dirt
and his feathers embrace the roots
his heart hath given to the colder winds
and his eyes kept open to see the dark
its beak still open for its last note still hung
in the air of glum and awe
but from a distance she heard the song unfinished
the angel who hears his sigh
she descends from duty to null this darkness
from one winged angel to another  
she kisses him from divine intention
she holds in her lips the elixir of hope
for one touch of love and whisper of hope
and the nightingale sings again.

My brand new life and social game
forfeited in godawful shame
forgotten by default foreshadowed and defeated.
arise again.

Move mountains,
Move seas,
Spread peace,
Remain a friend.

Risen again i will fall
I will never stand tall
But i can rise up again.

The book that I was raised on
said we killed You today.
That it took three days
and You rose again.
I believed it.
I still do.
But it says You're always with us.
And honestly.
I'm starting to wonder
Where?

Your sins
- forgiven
Christ is
RISEN

It baffles my mind every day
that someone would die for me
in such an excruciating kind of way.

I think of it all the time
how this man could show love
as such a beautiful sign.

How His loving hands covered in blood
could evaporate our sins and shame
so we could be loved.

We will always remember this one man
who died on this Easter day
loves us more than anyone can.