THE WRITINGS OF RUTH MARTIN
The Preacher's Wife

TWAS THE NIGHT AFTER EASTER

Twas the Night after Easter
And all thru the house,
Not a creature was sleeping..
Not even a mouse.

They were still so excited
At the wonderful word
That the angel had spoken
About Jesus the Lord.

Their hearts had been broken
In sorrow they'd cried.
Their hopes had been shattered
When Jesus had died.

They saw soldiers nail Him
To a rough cruel cross;
He suffered and died there..
What dreadful cost.

They saw when friends laid Him
In Joseph's own tomb,
The stone sealed the portals
Of that cold, burial room.

Two dark days and nights
Full of sorrow and fear,
So empty and pointless
Without Jesus near.

But yesterday morning,
At just break of day,
An angel from Heaven
Rolled that great stone away.

He sat there upon it
His message proclaimed,
That Jesus has risen
And is ALIVE again.

He appeared to some women
Near His garden tomb
Then to His disciples
In the upper room.

At first they were frightened
But He quieted their fears.
He showed them the nailprints
The wound from the spear.

He allowed them to touch Him
To make sure twas He
Then suddenly vanished.
Now where could He be?

The wonderful news
Spread swift as a flame .
Soon all His friends knew it
And praised His dear Name.

So who can be sleeping?
These tidings of joy
Make hearts sing with wonder
And praises employ.

This day after Easter
Is only the start.
He reigns now forever
And Life He imparts.

The tomb is still empty
And always will be
The symbol of victory
For you and for me.

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WRITINGS OF RUTH MARTIN

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