Oh mighty cross thou tool of death,
On thou I cling till my last breath.
All my sins nailed to thy frame,
All of my guilt, all of my shame.
It’s only wood, no ornate idol,
The One it bore gives it grand title.
For He made all and holds together,
All that He Loves, He Loves forever.
Its crimson stains worth more than gold,
Redeems my life from Satan’s hold.
Oh Jesus, Savior, who died for me,
Upon this wretched, awful tree.
To Him meant death, to me means life,
My soul’s been bought by such a price.
Shall I not lift my cross for Him,
And to His cross nail all my sins?
His Love for me I can’t deny,
My only question is: “why, Lord, why?”
That You would suffer for likes of me,
You must see something I cannot see.
Oh, cursed grave that swallows all,
The Mighty Christ refused not thy call.
He entered you, to bring me out,
You held not Him I have no doubt.
And by His victory o’re sin and death,
My soul finds peace, my soul finds rest.
“He is risen,” were angels’ words,
And I shall neither remain interred.
For I will too rise up forever,
And live with my God in His House together.
Joel Emerson
O death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?
The sting of death is sin;
and the strength of sin is the law.
But thanks be to God,
which giveth us the victory
through our Lord Jesus Christ.
I Corinthians 15:55-57
A note about “Oh Grave, Where is Thy Victory”: This was a direct answer to prayer. I usually write a poem reverent to Resurrection Day (Easter) for the newspaper and they usually publish it. Last year I forgot, but they printed something I had submitted earlier. Didn’t know where to start so I asked (in prayer) for something for this special day. I didn’t ask for myself but for others, I already know all this information, my goal is to bless others who do not know this awesome news. Thank You Jesus for giving me the great privilege of being your conduit!