Matchless Love

So many things are done for us,
As we live through our lives;
Some things by husbands or by kids
And some are done by wives.

Now all these things are done for us,
By those we love and know,
And so it’s easy to repay,
Our thanks we try to show.

But there is yet another gift,
A service done for all.
T’was done two thousand years ago,
To save us from our fall.

This single man lived humbly,
And taught his gospel well,
Then showed us Heaven could be home,
In spite of times we fell.

And then his blood he sacrificed,
His life he freely gave,
So we could live with him again,
Because we now are saved. 

The third day as he left his tomb
A death he overcame,
And with this gifts and sacrifice,
One day we’ll do the same.

At Easter we remind ourselves,
How he arose that day,
To give a gift for all of us,
And this I humbly pray.

To all, may Easter’s blessing be,
A testimony of,
The life and sacrifice of Christ,
And of his matchless love.

©James O’Brien
March 2004

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The Bride of Eternity

An example of passion
Of Christ's love for His bride
To redeem her from darkness
Of sin, errors, pride,
Can never be equaled
Never be measured.
But always remembered,
And always treasured. 
There will be no sequel, 
Just the marriage supper of the Lamb,
When we've ascended to heaven.
Oh, joy unspeakable,
At the sound of the horn of the ram...........

©Dawn Ellen Austin 

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Easter Celebration

As the sleeping world awakens,
Spring comes to field and fold.
We look around in wonder,
As the earth spills out her gold.

Hearts are filled with promise,
Touched by the warmth of the sun,
Our steps are a little lighter
Now that Winter's gone.

It's the time for new beginnings,
When we find our faith restored,
For at this special Eastertime
We hail our risen Lord.

 ©Marian Jones

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Father It is Time

Body soaked with blood and sweat,
kneeling there on the ground.
Praying to his Father in Heaven,
as soldier's, gathered around.

Time had come to face the peril,
the torment, soon to begin.
Would give his life upon the cross,
saving us all from are sin's.

Frist needed a guilty crime,
That Jesus had performed.
People screamed let Jesus die,
oh! how our lord was scorned.

They chained him, and beat him,
put a crown upon his head.
The crown was made of thorns.
how our precious Savior Bleed.

Innocent yet traded for a murderer,
would soon die a terrible death.
While hanging there upon the cross,
forgive them, was his last breath.

Soon we will honor that day again,
give thanks for what he done.
He has given us a place in Heaven,
with the Father and the Son.

Author 
©Walt Chapman
3/15 2004

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The Easter Story

From the garden of Gethsemane
Where Jesus knelt to pray
To the betrayal done by Judas
On that grim and fatal day. 

From the mighty hands of Pilate
Who wished to let Him be
To the noble priests and leaders
Who refused to set Him free. 

From the crown of thorns upon His head
And lash marks from a strap
To the weight of such a heavy cross
Placed there upon His back. 

From the thief who hung beside Him
Crying, “Lord, remember me”
To the gentle words of Jesus
“Today, you’ll be with me.”

From the darkness of the noon time
As He died upon the cross
To the earth that shook and trembled
In response to such a loss.

From the cheering cries of soldiers
As they took His body down
To the caring hands of Joseph
A follower new in town. 

From the tomb where He was laid to rest
In linen cloth of white
To the guards who had to stand close by
Throughout both day and night. 

From the stone that blocked the entrance
As it gently rolled away
To the miracle that happened
On that third and final day. 

From the baffled look of soldiers
As they peered into the room
To the startled face of Mary
When she found an empty tomb.

From the strange events that happened
As the guards all turned and fled
To the words that came from angels
“He has risen from the dead.”

From the frightened eyes of Mary
As she swiftly left that place
To the light that flowed from Jesus
When she saw Him face to face.

From the doubt of His disciples
When she spoke of resurrection
To the fear upon their faces
As He walked in their direction.

From the written word of scripture
He fulfilled in prophecy
To the eleven who had gathered 
On a hill in Galilee.

From the words that had been spoken
Before He went away
To His ascension into heaven
Where He lives this very day.

From the Bible on the mantel
Tis the words you need to heed
To find wisdom in its pages
And a light to sow a seed.

From the death and resurrection
Of the one we hold so dear
To the coming of His spirit
Now that Easter time is here.

From the colored eggs and candy
And an orchid trimmed in blue
To the truth found there in scripture
Christ Jesus died for you.

©Marilyn Ferguson
April 02, 2001

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The Cross Maker


Perhaps he was a craftsman
good at his trade
worker of wood, maybe
lost count of all things he had made.

then one day a cross was ordered
it must not be beautiful
it was to be unpolished and rough
to his job, he was dutiful.

As I thought about
the worker of wood-- much like Jesus
for He too was a carpenter
the very wood he created, was now worked for us.

How very alike, I think they were
men of skill and honed art
but the use of what they created
were worlds and love apart.

I wonder how he must have felt
when he created the cross where Jesus died
to have created with his own hands
a cross for the crucified.

I didn't make the cross
but my sins mingled with the wood
As precious holy blood, stained it
To do what only Jesus could.

I didn't form the shape of it
but the cross beans of wide expanse
and the length from head to foot
was necessary to redeem my circumstance.

I was lost and so undone
a soul in sin for hell was bound
I needed a saviour a sacrifice
In Christ a spotless lamb was found.

His cross I created with my sin
the sacrifice demanded just for me
though I didn't carve its length and breath
it was passed from age to age.. for all to see.

I never heard it said
who actually nailed and worked the wood
all I really know-it held such love
to give a sacrifice as, only Jesus could.

I have never heard
where his cross was afterwards taken
but what I know to this day
because of it- the whole world has been shaken.

The enemies of the cross
claim it has no basis is reality
It separated religions and their people
but the "Occupant" of it, has set me free.

Had the maker of His cross
known the love that it would hold
would he have made it smooth and beautiful
in- laind with silver and richest gold.

would he had worked it with tender hands
and prayed while he worked away
or would his heart beat in agony
for what he had to do that day.

As the ages of time have past
and the cross maker has no known name
but it is kept in the books of God himself
and because of that cross and the one it held

my life will never be the same.

©sandra griffin

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He Walked That Path to Calvary

He walked that path on a Friday they did say
Bruised and beaten and carrying a heavy cross
For our sins and transgressions He paid the cost.
They crowned His head with thorns
For the lies and sins of others, He was scourned.
Wrapped in a cloth and put in a tomb.
Everyone felt that He was doomed.
Three days later He arose and was seated 
at the right hand of the Father
Pardoning every Man, Women, Son and Daughter.
His death and resurrection came to set us free.
For all of us He overcame sin and won the Victory.
Salvation and Grace is ours forever more
Thats why the Father let Jesus walk that path to Calvary.

©Nancy Hoback, 2003

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''In Remembrance Of Easter''

Shop windows decked out with chocolates
Every sidewalk and street just the same
There was not a sign of our holy day
Not even a whisper of his name

Where will I hear of my father
Will I find him in the Mall
Is he somewhere on the Internet
Will he hear me if I call

Where is the real message of Easter
Why so much ignorance from us
How did a rabbit become so important
Is our own father not worth such fuss?

Why not tell your children the story
Of the man we know as our Lord
Reunite yourself while you're at it
Let him know he has not been ignored

Let us be greatful for all that he gave us
Remind all that have lost their way
There once was a man who lived for us all
Then was crucified for having his say

He gave all who would listen words of hope
His heart had so much love to share
He spoke of a place where our father was waiting
And asked that we never despair

On the day of his capture his tears were for us
He carried the world as he carried his cross
For those who knelt praying he prayed their forgiveness
For all our sins he took such a loss

His time here on earth may have been short
But he always knew this to be the plan
He offered his life so that we might live
How could we ever forget this man???

©Debbie Stevens

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Midi Playing:  Old Rugged Cross