I stood at the foot of the cross on Friday,
The cross where they crucified my son.
I was close enough to see his tears
I wept as I saw his blood.
There was nothing I could do to stop them.
My cries were drowned by the crowd.
He told me this day would come,
But I didn’t know they’d be so loud.
My miracle child
Born in a stable bare
No room at the inn, the keeper had said
No room for this child so rare.
How did we get from there to here?
From shepherds and miracle birth
To this darkest of days as they take his life
The end of his work here on earth.
The sky is turning darker now
Taking on a green-black hue.
He cries out, “Father, forgive them
For they know not what they do.”
The world goes black
As my sweet boy dies
I fall to my knees in anguish now
As he finally closes his eyes.
“It is finished,” he said
As he slipped from his broken frame
The crowd thinned out, they no longer cared,
Though they were the ones to blame.
I wept as they lowered his body
My arms reached to hold my son
I held him close as I did long ago
My miracle child, my special one.
They took him from my arms too soon
They had to place him in the tomb.
We had no time for proper service
The Sabbath eve had fallen on us.
I spent the Sabbath morning mourning
Crying for the man he could have been.
I wept for words not said and deeds not done
I begged forgiveness for my sins.
For I felt anger at that crowd
And at my government.
I felt anger toward those who loved him
Whose voices had been silent.
The Sabbath day passed slowly by
For time it marches on
The early hours of the morning dawned
There was work still to be done.
Sweet Mary of Magdalene
And the other Mary, too,
Said they would tend to his body
So they left me with nothing to do.
Nothing to do but weep for my child
My son who was no longer here.
My son who they’d killed and taken from me.
A man who to many had been dear.
Through the sound of my cries I heard a shout
And I ran to the door to see
The Marys were running back from the garden
What I heard just could not be!
“He is not there,” they shouted loud
“The stone is moved and his body gone!”
Did someone take him? How could this be?
But the Marys continued on…
“An angel was there and made it known
That we were not to be afraid.
What he said to us then we could hardly believe.
Jesus has risen from the grave!”
“Risen?” I asked. “What do you mean by this?
He was nailed to a cross and I watched as he bled!
What you are saying just makes no sense.
I saw with my own eyes, my Jesus is dead.”
“He appeared to us! He truly did!
We saw with our eyes, too!
He is no longer dead, He has conquered the grave
Just like he said he would do!”
I didn’t know what to make of this news
But I tried to understand
My Jesus lives! He is not dead!
He was raised by God’s own hand!
This was more than any mother could hope
More than I had dared ever dream.
I looked up at the sky just then
And was amazed by the golden gleam.
Yes, a new day had dawned and from this day on
Things would never be the same.
We laughed and cried and hugged each other
As on and on we exclaimed,
“The Son of God is no longer dead!
He died but has risen like it was decreed!
Christ the Lord is risen today!
My Jesus is risen indeed!”