It’s Easter


Can you imagine, being Him

Called Jesus . . .
He lived a perfect life,
Laid down for you and me
Betrayed in a garden,
Sent off for sentencing

No wrong had been committed
He carried the cross for you and me
A crown of thorns upon his head
Whipped and bleeding

He carried His cross instead

For you and me
They taunted Him, they pushed him down,
And spit on Him when
He hit the ground
Too tired and wounded,

He did proceed

Because He knew that’s what we need
The only way free of sin
Is open doors and let Him in
He’s been knocking, can’t you hear

He’s right outside, nothing to fear
This Easter it's time . . .

Let Him in

Never too late
To celebrate, let Him in
He’s knocking . . . .

                                D. Carlson

 

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