How comes this flower to bloom so fair,
With loveliest fragrance to fill the air?
A short time ago the seed lay dead,
The cold, wintry ground its desolate bed.
But now, behold, from the dampened earth,
Without a sound to betray its birth,
This thing of beauty has blossomed and grown
To possess a loveliness all its own.
And as we view it, standing there
With a majesty quite beyond compare,
A mighty conviction grips the heart:
This beautiful flowβr has a counterpart.
Our Savior once suffered and died for sin.
Though no one so righteous as He had been.
It seemed that the devil had sealed His doom
As they buried His body in Josephβs tomb.
But what is this wonder that greets our eyes
As the rays of the third morningβs sun arise?
Behold, He is risen! The grave could not hold
The Author of Life; the Anointed of God!
And now the dead who have trusted in His name,
Though sleeping in Jesus, will rise again
With bodies more glorious than this flower
βSown in weakness, but raised in power!
β C.R.S. source
[β¦] We smile at the irony of unbelief. But what about ourselves? The risen, glorified Christ exercises far greater power and offers far greater blessings to believers now than His followers of old knew anything [β¦]