Then Came Sunday Morning

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Sitting in silence.

Wrapped in grief.

Haunted by fear.

Hearts echoed with the emptiness left when Jesus’ body was laid in the tomb.

Hope had disappeared.

Then came Sunday morning.

The sun peeked over the hills. Women trudged with feet as heavy as their hearts to the tomb. In their hands were fragrant spices to properly prepare their Master and friend for burial. 

But who would roll away the stone? Who would let them in?

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Suddenly hope was rekindled! The stone was rolled away!

"He is not here!” the angel said. “He is risen!” 

The tomb was empty, but their hearts were full.

Fear gave way to courage!

Grief gave way to joy!

Silence was swallowed up in victory!

Sin, where are your shackles?
Death, where is your sting?
Hell has been defeated.
The grave could not hold the king.*

Then came Sunday morning—and absolutely nothing would ever be the same again.

*Lyrics from “Arise, My Love” by Newsong.