Nothing’s sacred, the days are cheap
Truth is thin on the ground
Still our prophets are crucified
Nobody believes we’re stumbling
It’s Friday, but Sunday is coming
Someone’s saying a prayer tonight
For hungry mouths to be filled
Someone kneels in the dark somewhere
And darkness is already crumbling
It’s Friday, but Sunday comes
Sunday – Hallelujah – it’s not so far, it’s not so far away
Sunday – Hallelujah – it’s not so far, it’s not so far away
Broken promises, weary hearts
But one promise remains:
Crucified, he will come again
It’s Friday, but Sunday is coming
It’s Friday, but Sunday is coming
And now that Sunday has come, the peace has started to appear. The fear has started to dissipate and the anxiety no longer paralyzes me for hours, just minutes at a time now...
Needless to say, I found Him, on this weekend, the one where He suffered and died and conquered the grave, I found Him, well really, He found me. I know first hand what it means for Him to come to our rescue, for Him to never give us more than we can handle and I know first hand what it means when He says that He will never leave nor forsake us. I now know why those scriptures mean so much to me. I know why His word means so much to me.
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