He is risen, indeed!

There is cleansing by truth as I enter,
as my hands are dipped in the laver and I enter in.

I can still feel the water's moisture
as I present my own lamb to offer to the Priest in my name.

But the cup of Redemption brings forth my salvation
as I partake in the Covenant of His blood
And the body was broken as all that was spoken was done.

His body scourged and torn,
I take His clothing as my own and mock Him.

But as He breathes His last breath,
the thick curtain is rent between Him and me.

This is my journey of worship,
past the tomb that was hewn for men,
past the angel seated on the stone,
declaring my LORD lives again.

This is my journey of worship,
past the first fruits of a harvest for all,
past the Spirit poured out on flesh,
where tongues of fire to every man call.

This is my journey of worship,
to the tree that grew of small seed -
what was once smallest is now tallest,
where men are grafted in in belief.

Out of darkness and into light,
from the light to all who need.
This is my journey of worship -
that all might know and believe.

©2006 AKG