This is our witness,
The brokenness we must confess:

Under the weight of apathy and politics of war, we find ourselves at odds with sorrow.
Suddenly, in the disruption of the world we feel a shift,
A crack in the tomb, a sliver of light, as we remain resistant to promises of tomorrow.

So we look again for promises kept, because what we came to seek, we did not find.
Death’s door has been opened; In the end, a beginning rises.
As we come and see much more than we had in mind.

What joy we discover in everlasting life as to Jesus, we take hold,
With the hope that wherever the journey takes, we have nothing to fear.
Because Jesus meets us right where we are, truth be told.

To name the beauty in the brokenness:
This is our witness.

Sometimes our brokenness prevails.

War and death shake us to the core, in our aging bones we quake.
We battle internally with our uncertainty, with what we want to see.
When the grave’s opened but so much unknown is still at stake.

Fear gives way to once buried hope. With prayer, the plot twists.
The grave is vacated and possibility revived for a future
Life without death we’d otherwise missed.

What a greeting of peace that Jesus speaks to the soul,
Meeting us right where we are, giving us living proof
In the life beyond death that makes us whole.

To this beauty, our witness never fails.