Lightning flashed; violent thunder,
storms on the raging seas,
people crying out for safety,
their cries became tortured pleas.

Ships tossed  without anchor,
billows rolling in great spans,
then, I saw Jesus calm them
with a whispered command.

There on the cross I saw Jesus,
bruised and battered, in shame.
His hands, pierced by nails; 
bonds of death, they became.  

His side riven,
His life’s blood dripping down,
His face, so painfully distorted,
from the terrible thorns in His crown.

There was anguish, pain and compassion,
in that face, so tortured and torn.
The lines of strain, deepened, as though
meticulously chiseled in stone.

There was love, on that face, so precious,
a love not born of man, a deep abiding love,
a testimony to His nail pierced hands.

There was limitless measures of mercy,
forgiveness and boundless grace.
An image of you and me and all creation
etched on that blood drenched
face.

There were scenes from all eternity,
the flames of hell were fanned,
then as the tomb was opened,
I embraced God’s Salvation plan.

Then I saw the tomb was empty,
death could not hold Him down,
the nails that had held Him to the cross,
no longer could they be found.

The grave clothes still were there,
lying where He lay, as a witness He had risen,
in the first light of day.
Yes, the tomb was empty,
but where had they taken Him?

Then Mary saw Him, there in the garden,
and fell down and worshipped Him.
The scars from the nails were there,
the hole in His side He bore,
but no longer was anyone there,
inside the sepulchre door.

The Babe in Bethlehem was Mary’s Son,
On the cross His earthly life ceased.
In death He was glorified as He glorified the Father,
the Lamb Who was slain for our peace.

In the glory of His resurrection
triumphant o’er shame and scorn,
He was God’s Holy Anointed,
God’s Salvation plan had come.

Nell M. Berry 11/14/99 nmberry@mcmsys.com