Very early, Sunday morn, Grief rising up like a gathering storm, Day-break, Hearts ache, As the weight of it all begins to dawn. Thorns, nails, Mournful wails, Laid in a tomb that wasn't His own, Laden with spices, We make our way, Not even knowing who'll roll back the stone. Earth quake! Guards shake, Heavenly beings in dazzling white, Our hearts pound with fear, Afraid to draw near, We fall to the ground at this awesome sight. Don't fear! He isn't here. Why search for the living amongst the dead? Hurry, go! Let everyone know, That Jesus is risen, just as He said.
Angela Jelf Writes... 