His Tomb Was Empty

I come to His tomb on Sunday morn I've been crying all weekend, my heart is torn My Lord and Master was crucified He was nailed to the cross; that's how He died. I can't comprehend how it could be; He said He came to set us free. He delivered me from my life of shame But never resisted when the soldiers came. I approach His tomb with the rising sun Ready to do what needs to be done. I'll anoint His body with spices and love And recall His words, "Be gentle as a dove." As I get closer, there's something wrong-- The tomb is open and Jesus is gone! I sit on a rock and once more I cry; They've taken His body, and I don't know why. "Why are you crying on this boulder?" I hear a voice and think it's a soldier. "You've taken His body, please tell me where, Let me anoint Him and show that I care." "Mary," He says, and I know that voice! "Don't be sad; stand up and rejoice! Did I not tell you and all my friends That I must die, but that isn't the end?" I ran to find Peter, Paul, and John, "I went to His tomb, and the stone was gone! I saw Jesus, and He's not dead Our Master is risen, just as He said!" Hallelujah, He's risen, just like He said! March 31/18 D H Loewen