The Rock

God is dead, or so they said.
It’s whatever you believe.
We’re all the same, despite the name.
Lies meant to deceive.

Upon the Rock, He built His church,
And we, the living stones.
We’re not here, all by ourselves.
We’re never left alone.

So many now, they build on sand,
And wonder why they fall
Without the Rock to stand upon,
You do not stand at all.

What is truth? the question asked.
The question still remains.
One man…The Way, The Truth, The Life.
His Blood to cleanse the stain.

He, the Rock, the Stumbling Stone.
You cannot turn away.
His Father did, those sun-less hours.
When night took place of day.

Many cheered and sighed relief.
Thinking it was done.
“It is finished,” was His cry.
The battle all but won.

Days of quiet, days of gray.
Uncertainty, hopes destroyed.
No expectation He would rise.
The din of hopeless noise.

Then Sunday morning…brilliant.
Who would move the rock away?
Empty tomb, linens folded.
Night turned into Day.

The rock that couldn’t hold Him.
The nails that left their scars.
The Lion, a Lamb so wounded.
The Manna which broke the jar.

Hope alive, the call is heard.
The One that stands between.
The Spirit deposited in our hearts.
To explain what all this means.

It seems so dark, these many years.
Losing the ground once gained.
But the Lamb is alive, there is nothing to fear.
No tears, no death, no pain.

The road is narrow and steep to climb.
We press on towards the goal.
We must never lose sight of His Strength or His Might,
As we trust Him to keep our soul.

One day the world’s rock will be pulled back…removed.
Then He’ll be seen as He is.
Triumphant, Victorious, slain Lamb on the Throne.
Gathering all that are His.

We stand on our Rock, no sand at our feet.
He the smitten, The Rock quenching thirst.
Hope alive, all things new, like they once were before.
Our Savior, the last and the first.

 

A stone that causes men to stumble and a rock that makes them fall (Isaiah 8:14)