Archive | April 2020

The Day Before Easter

The gore that bore my sins
I want to look away
I want to hide the scars like eggs on Easter day.

But look at them I must,
if I would understand,
the truth that it’s MY sin
that pierced his sacred hands.

🎶 O sacred Head, now wounded,
with grief and shame weighed down;
now scornfully surrounded
with thorns, thine only crown;
O sacred Head, what glory,
what bliss ’til now was thine!
Yet, though despised and gory,
I joy to call thee mine. 🎶

Two thousands and twenty years ago, the night before the morning we celebrate as Easter, things looked pretty grim.
But joy comes in the morning…

Good Friday image

image from my art journal.