Growing up, we had loved our church, for it was our teacher, our schoolmaster to bring us to Christ. As a young girl, I would try to think of the sadness of Christ’s horrible death on the Cross. His death had overshadowed His resurrection both at church, and in my young life. I knew He had risen, but it did not touch my life.
Now that we were in our new spirit-filled Church, Easter was a joyful day and we were no longer sad. We would turn to each other with great glee shouting, “He is risen!” They would answer, “He is risen indeed!” We finally knew what it all meant…
“Free at last, Free at last
Shout of the centuries’ din,
We were bound and looked everywhere
To break our chains of sin.
Finally, on the cross,
Was the plan to be free;
It could never come
From the things that we see.
But the broken heart and
Blood of Jesus cried,
‘Free at last, we are’
The power of sin has died.”