An old rugged cross…

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
the emblem of suffering and shame;
and I love that old cross where the dearest and best
for a world of lost sinners was slain.

So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,

till my trophies at last I lay down;

I will cling to the old rugged cross,

and exchange it some day for a crown.

 

we lit the candles, we sang hymns, we read the about Jesus being hung on a cross.
we prayed together.
we thanked God for His gift of forgiveness.
we thanked God for the gift that we can’t even comprehend.
we praise Him because we know the end of the story.
death will not win.
death has no sting.
but, we remembered.
and we are thankful.