Description of Printable Paper: restored bookend paper, Easter flowers, Spring garden, flowers, for your personal crafts only, field
of drawn rabbits, colors: peach, blue and yellow, very vintage, Read
Terms of Use folks, end paper is designed by Walter Crane
Description of Printable Paper: restored bookend paper, Easter baskets, Spring baskets, flowers, for your personal crafts only, field
of drawn rabbits, colors: peach, blue and yellow, very vintage, Read
Terms of Use folks
Don't forget to drag the png. or jpg into a Word Document and enlarge the image
as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question
about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located
directly below this post and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I
can.
"Poor, anxious, over thoughtful man ! He plods his dreary way - bowed down with earthly care - borrowing sorrow from the days to come - forgetful of the Heavenly Provider.
Sweet flowers! Do you breathe of hope to his dim faith - whisper to his sinking heart of Him who so clothes the grass of the fields from day to day. Wherefore taketh he thought for the morrow? His Father knoweth his need. He will provide out of His own rich fullness. He will lift the shadow of care that smothers him like a pall. Oh! that he would but consider the Lilies!
Has all pleasure faded out of your life? Do the clouds of disappointment shroud your sky? It is better for you to die than to live, think you? Nay - consider the Lilies, with which God so clothes the grass of the fields. Life is not all a barren waste. Ah! through blinding tears, you can see no loveliness; but it is there - all around you still. Let your gracious Father wipe the tears away, that you may see clearly. He waits to be gracious - to do all you need - to comfort you, exceeding abundantly above all you can ask or think, for His own good pleasure. He giveth not according to desert; He measureth not His gifts by desire; out of His own rich fullness in Christ the Lord, He bestoweth to the full measure of the need, heaped up and running over - He giveth without measure, to the sons of His love in Jesus. If His face be hid for a moment, His kindness is everlasting. Ah! would you but consider the Lilies, and turn to Him for comfort and consolation!" A. Buchanan.
"Consider the lilies...
Our Burial Places Sacred.
How we linger around the cold remains of a friend till absolutely driven from it! How we care for it, as for some precious gem not always to be trodden in the dust! How reverently we commit it to the keeping of its mother earth; bidding it good night as if in attendance on the councils of royalty!
How sacred is the spot where he lies! How often do we retire not alone to weep but to hold sweet communion with the departed, and say, "We shall meet again." - Rev. McClelland, D. D.
The Nesting Bird's Box by kathy grimm as seen from above.
Although the assembly of this little box may be a bit challenging in at first, most of you will get the gist of it after a few seconds of trial and error.
Just imagine how different my box might look if I were to use paper or paint to decorate it? I loved the soft, tactile surface of this box. And the neutral brown shades gave it a bit of a modern twist in the finish, I think. It makes for an unusual Easter surprise!
Supply List:
small empty, clean carton with a screw top spout
paper or plastic bowl
cardstock or cardboard
masking tape
white school glue
plastic or styrofoam eggs
yarn for nest, eggs and bird
feathers
scissors
tissue paper
Sculpey clay (just a small amount)
hot glue
Step-by-Step Directions:
Clean with warm warm water and soap a screw top spouted cream carton. Then cut the top off including a generous piece of cardboard surrounding it. (see photo below)
Cover the bowl's surface with masking tape on all sides.
Take the paper or plastic bowl and turn it upside down on a piece of cardboard and draw around the edge to estimate the circumference of it's opening. Cut around this circle leaving about a half inch in excess from the drawn circle.
Remove the plastic lid from the carton piece and trace around it on top of the cardstock where ever you plan to have the box open. If your making a nest similar to mine, put it roughly in the middle.
Punch a whole in the center of this smaller outline with the tip of your scissors and cut the small whole out. Make sure that the lid top fits neatly through the hole.
Cover the top with masking tape. Cut out the hole shape if you cover this with the tape.
Now push the lid opening and it's attached backing through one side of the container's lid. (see photograph below)
Tape this secure and flip it over to screw on the plastic lid top.
Notch around the half inch cut so that the edge may be turned under or up slightly and then squeeze glue around this edge and nestle it on to the top of the bowl. Mask the top edge firmly to the bowl top. Let this form dry.
Use glue and making tape to position and secure the plastic egg shells around the inside of the nest.
Now unscrew the lid from the top of the box. Crush the tissue into the shape of a small baby bird and glue this to the lid's top. Be careful not to get tape, glue or paper on the inside of the lid so that it will continue to screw on and off of it's lip properly.
Mask this tiny bird with the tape.
Sculpt a bit of clay into a open beak for the bird. Fit it onto the small bird's head to make sure that it looks the way you want before baking it into it's permanent shape.
After baking this according to directions, let cool and then hot glue it to your baby bird.
Now use the white school glue to cover your nest with yarns of your own choosing. This will need to be done in stages, the bottom first and so on... Let the glued surfaces dry between stages over several days. (see detailed photos below)
Include a secret letter and perhaps a bit of money inside your bird's nest box to give as a special gift for Easter or a child's birthday.
Left, "Clean with warm warm water and soap a screw top spouted cream carton.
Then cut the top off including
a generous piece of cardboard surrounding
it." Right, you can see that I have cut a whole measuring the
same size of the lid into the top of the cardboard "nest."
Left and Center, "Now push the lid opening and it's attached backing through one side of the container's lid.
Right, the opening of my Nest Box is neat, clean, and ready for decorating.
Left, "Now unscrew the lid from the top of the box. Crush the tissue into the
shape of a small baby bird and glue
this to the lid's top. Be careful
not to get tape, glue or paper on the inside of the lid so that it will
continue to screw
on and off of it's lip properly." Right, "Use glue and making tape to position and secure the plastic egg shells around
the inside of the nest."
Above is the top of the screw top lid covered with furry brown yarn, a Sculpey beak and real feathers, made to look like a baby bird. I went for a simpler look and opted to leave the beak unpainted this time. In the photographs below you can see the yarn covered box from different points of view as well as a close up shot of the box with the led unscrewed.
Amid the confusion of the early records which tell about the great event which Easter celebrates one thing stands out very clear. No human eye saw the resurrection of Jesus or watched the inscrutable process. The Christian witnesses bore testimony only to the accomplished fact. The change from death to life culminated in the obscurity of the tomb. " While it was yet dark," there came, according to the most philosophical of the Gospels, anxious watchers who found the transformation already complete and the tomb empty. The darkness which shrouded the event is paralleled by the confusion and uncertainty of the conflicting testimony that has reached us. In fact the whole course of Christian beginnings lies shrouded in the mystery of indefiniteness and the shadows of the unknown.
But all great beginnings are thus conditioned and surrounded. Man becomes conscious of the result long after the causes have apparently ceased to operate. He sees the product after the early stages of the process have receded into the dim past. Only the scantiest remains mark the pathway of early developments, and the highest intelligence is necessary to descry the scraps of evidence and by comparison and imagination reconstruct the methods and movements of these living forces.
Nestled in the darkness of mother earth the seed takes on the new life which is first observed springing in vigor from the soil. Out of the mothering womb of time has come forth the human race through its various stages, progressing through barbarism, primitive civilization, and the historic era.
Since man began to think upon the past he has evolved unnumbered theories of his beginning, and still to the most instructed the early stages in each onward course of development must be approached through a twilight that ends in darkness. The rude beginnings of his culture are buried beneath the rubbish heaps of time. The institutions of religion, home and government we know only in their higher forms. Language, art and thought can be studied in their monuments alone. The keenest and most critical investigations have only partially revealed the successive steps of Hebraism and the founding of Christianity. Those centuries in which directive forces were forming the incipient movements which have culminated in what we call western civilization are often termed the DarkAges. On the whole we must conclude that the great forces operating in society and in life conceal their most significant phases, those phases which carry the greatest import for the future, from the contemporary eyes of men. We cannot " look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not." While it is yet dark the great movements of the future are being planned and the first steps toward the realization of the plans are being taken.
Around us at this Easter time the darkness and confusion of human affairs are almost beyond parallel. A crisis in history has, no doubt, been reached. We seem to see not only the disruption of international and national life, but the clashing ideals of races, the spread and deepening of hatred and strife, the failure of human capacity for organization to hold in check the elemental passions and aspirations of mankind, and even the breakdown of Christianity itself.
Nevertheless, the seeds of a new and grander future have doubtless been already sown. The ways of nature and human development lead us to expect that this is so. Life is positive, death is negative. The breakup and sloughing off of the old and outworn may appear as the darkness of dissolution, but the stirrings of a new life to result in a higher order are scarcely to be apprehended until the growth directed by the Unseen Mind has brought some reorganization out of the old chaos." Out of the cradle endlessly rocking " come the strength and wisdom that shape and advance the world's destinies. The patient, brooding spirit of man, inspired by hope and faith in the Divine Order, will yet bring to power and dominion the living principles of international brotherhood and service now obscured in the bitterness and darkness of war and racial strife. Future generations will surely say: "While it was yet dark" we discerned the birth throes of a new world order. by Charles E. Hesselgrave
March and April in Washington spell for the adult the perfection of a climate which at its best no capital on earth can surpass. Color, fragrance, and an almost indefinable sense that the appropriate necessary mood is one of languid leisure are pervasive. The spring odors and flowers seem suddenly to flood the gardens and lawns. In the tiny six-by-two bed under a bay-window and in the stretches of living green by the river the daffodils have succeeded the crocus; hyacinths and flaring tulips fill the borders, and even the stems in the hedges are full of color. Over every tree there is a smoky veil where the swelling leaf-buds have blurred the winter tracery of bare twigs against the sky, but are not yet heavy enough to cast a shade.
Only the children seem energetic, especially on Easter Monday, the great day for Washington babies. Along Pennsylvania Avenue they stream‚ well dressed, nurse-attended darlings mingling with the raggedest little poor children that ever snatched an egg from a market-basket. The wide street looks as if baby-blossom time had come, for there are hundreds of children who on this special afternoon storm the grounds of the White House for their annual egg-rolling. Long ago the sport took place on the terraces below the Capitol, and a visitor to the city then wrote:
"At first the children sit sedately in long rows; each has brought a basket of gay-colored hard-boiled eggs, and those on the upper terrace send them rolling to the line on the next below, and these pass on the ribbon-like streams to other hundreds at the foot, who scramble for the hopping eggs and hurry panting to the top to start them down again. And as the sport warms those on top who have rolled all the eggs they brought finally roll themselves, shrieking with laughter. Now comes a swirl of curls and ribbons and furbelows, somebody's dainty maid indifferent to bumps and grass stains. A set of boys who started in a line of six with joined hands are trying to come down in somersaults without breaking the chain. On all sides the older folk stand by to watch the games of this infant Carnival which comes to an end only when the children are forced away by fatigue to the point of exhaustion, or by parental order."
When the games proved too hard a test for the grass on the Capitol terraces. Congress stopped the practice, and the President opened the slope back of the White House. No grown person is admitted unless accompanied by a child, but even under this restriction the annual crowd is great enough to threaten the survival of the event.
This film of babies tossing eggs for Easter was made
God shield ye, heralds of the spring.
Ye faithful swallows, fleet of wing,
Houps, cuckoos, nightingales.
Turtles, and every wilder bird,
That make your hundred chirpings heard
Through the green woods and dales.
God shield ye, Easter daisies all.
Fair roses, buds, and blossoms small,
And lie whom erst the gore
Of Ajax and Narciss did print,
Ye wild thyme, anise, balm, and mint,
I welcome ye once more.
God shield ye, bright embroider'd train
Of butterflies, that on the plain.
Of each sweet herblet sip;
And ye, new swarms of bees, that go
Where the pink flowers and yellow grow.
To kiss them with your lip.
A hundred thousand times I call
A hearty welcome on ye all:
This season how I love--
This merry din on every shore--
For winds and storms, whose sullen roar
Forbade my steps to rove.
Description of Coloring Page: cross, lilies, rose, bluebells, flowers
Don't forget to drag the png. or jpg into a Word Document and enlarge the image
as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question
about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located
directly below this post and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I
can.
When I was a child joyfully I ran, hand claspt in hand, now with my mother, now with my father, or with younger, blithe companions, now in sunlight, now in shadow and dread, through the strange new Valley of Life.
Sometimes on the high-road, then over the fields and meadows, or through the solemn forests; sometimes along the happy brook-side, listening to its music or the clamor of the falls, as the pleasant waters hurried or grew still, in the winding way down the Valley of Life.
And as we moved along, hand claspt in hand, sometimes the handclasp was broken, and I, a happy child, ran swiftly from the path to gather flower or fruit or get sight of a singing bird; or to lean down and pluck a pearly stone from under the lapping waves; or climbed a tree and swayed, shouting, on its waving boughs - then returning to the clasp of loving hands, and so passing on and on down the opening Valley of Life.
In the bright morning I walked wondering, wondering I walked through the still twilight and many-colored sunset; watching the great stars gather, and lost in the mystery of worlds beyond number, and spaces beyond thought, till, side by side, we lay down to sleep under the stars in the Valley of Life and of Dreams.
Then there came a time when the hands that held me, - the loving hands that guided my steps and drew me gently on, - turned cold, and slipt from my grasp; I waited, but they came not back, and slowly and alone I plodded on down the Valley of Life and of Death.
"Where went they?" I asked my heart and the whispering waters and the sighing trees. "Where went my loving and well-beloved guides? Did they climb the hills and tarry; did they, tired, lie down to sleep and forget me forever; leaving me to journey on without their dear care down the Long Valley of Life?"
I could not know, for I heard no answer except my own heart's beating. But other comrades came, - one dearer than all, - and as time went on I felt the little hands of my own children clasping mine while, once more happy and elate, with them I traveled down the miraculous Valley of Life.
But, as on we wander, hearing their bright voices, and seeing their joy upon the way, - their happy chasings here and there, their eager run to hold again our hands, - how soon, I think, shall I feel the slipping away of the clasping fingers while I fall asleep by the wayside, or climb the cloud-enveloped hills, and leave those I love to journey on down the lonely Valley of Life!
And I say: "Surely the day and the hour hasten; grief will be theirs for a season: then will they, as did I, with brave hearts journey on the appointed way."
That sweet singer and musical composer, who has done so much for popular American church music, Dr. Lowell Mason, died but a short time since, at an advanced age. Long years ago he had buried his first-born, a lovely boy, named Daniel. About his dying bed friends gathered to watch the ebbing out of life. He had taken his final farewell of the loved ones he was leaving behind. The spirit was still hovering on the confines of the body. Suddenly he opened his eyes. He looked upward with an earnest, intent look. "Daniel, may I come?" he said. And then with a smile of recognition, he added: "Let me come!" And he went. Father and son were once more together. Bishop Fallows
Flowers speak the language of the heart. They convey the most personal and individual sentiment, while appealing to common universal taste and imagination. This characteristic of flowers, fits them especially for uses of religion and of church service, since they both express private affections of the giver and enrich symbolism of the altar. A basket or cross of flowers can say all the heart wishes to say, and say it without obtruding personal feeling. In medieval times flowers spoke a definite language, the interpretation of which has seemed almost lost. The palm--the ancient classical symbol of victory--was early assumed by Christians as a symbol of martyrdom. It was placed into hands of those who suffered in the cause of truth, as expressing their final victory over powers of sin and death. It also figured on tombs of early martyrs.
Above are the finished versions of the simple fabric napkin rings for Easter dinner.
This simple sewing project may be ac-
complished in one or two afternoons prior
to a party by a child as young as 10
or 11 years old.
It's important for parents involve their children in both the presentation of a family party and also in the execution of a party, especially if they are old enough to help out. Young people can easily decorate a table setting for a holiday event with things like: floral displays, name place tags and napkin rings.
I've included here a sewing project that would be simple enough for a preteen to put together for their family Easter table. The felt bunnies and chicks came from a Hobby Lobby and the fabric from a local Joanne's store. Both items together did not cost me more than five dollars.
The craft takes a little advanced planning. You will need to probably color coordinate your fabric selection with the dishes you plan to use. Let your child take a sample plate to the fabric store and hold it up next to the fabrics in order to choose something appropriate. Give him or her several days to complete this sewing project, if they have never attempted to sew before. Their stitching doesn't need to be perfect but you should give them time to practice if they are to attempt it to completion without parental help.
Cut the fabric into strips measuring approximately 3 inches wide and 5 inches long. Allow for a seam of about half an inch. With the right sides together, sew around the perimeter of the strips after folding these in half and leave one end open in order to turn the finished tube inside out. Whip stitch the ends shut and then stitch both finished edges together with a blanket stitch. Iron or glue the felt animals onto the napkin rings. Insert pastel colored napkins (fabric or paper) and set the Easter table for company.
If your youngsters enjoy this kind of project, why not assign the responsibility to them every year?
Easter should be a day of spiritual joy, a day for celebration of the resurrection of spirit, a day in which spiritual considerations should be more prominent. Any secular or civil activities that interfere with pure spiritual observance of that day should be discouraged. Jesus Christ announced the important truth that the glory of his resurrection was the fruit of his Passion--I mean the accidental glory incident to his humanity, not the essential glory inherent in his divinity. While two of his disciples were going from Jerusalem to Emmaus, discoursing in the crucifixion, Jesus, in the guise of a stranger, joined them, and they said to him: "We had hoped that Christ would redeem Israel from gentile bondage and would reestablish the kingdom of a grander scale and rule as a conqueror. But our hopes are shaken, for he died a shameful death on the cross." And Jesus said to them: "Foolish and slow of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken. Ought not Christ to have suffered these things and so enter into his glory?" If he had not trod the path of suffering and humiliation he would not be the Messiah foretold by the prophets. Cardinal Gibbons
Description of Coloring Page: An angel sends prayerful thanks to God for sparing the souls of the faithful in Christ, wings, crosses, patterns, choir robe, halo and verse:
"The Angel' Welcome sounds on high
The risen saints exultant cry.
In holy strain
With glad refrain
Alleluia! Victory!"
Don't forget to drag the png. or jpg into a Word Document and enlarge the image
as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question
about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located
directly below this post and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I
can.
These little butterflies are easy to craft. All you will need are a few pom-poms, wiggly eyes and paper doilies. I hand-colored my doilies for the blue butterfly and left another set white for the second version of this craft.
You will need to accordion fold two paper dollies and glue four pom-poms on top of each other and let these dry over night before assembling the butterfly. Use a very tacky white glue for this project and it will prove far less frustrating to complete. You could use a hot glue if you'd like, but this glue is not safe for little ones to handle.
These bunnies are perfect for an Easter greeting card or two.
Description of Printable Paper: restored bookend paper, from an old copy of "The Velveteen Rabbit" for your personal crafts only, field of drawn rabbits, colors: peach, blue and lime green, very vintage, Read Terms of Use folks
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as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question
about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located
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Description of Coloring Page: a cracked egg shell makes a wheelbarrow, chicks as passengers, rabbit pushing the wheelbarrow
Don't forget to drag the png. or jpg into a Word Document and enlarge the image
as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question
about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located
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can.
This year I decided to decorate my Welsh cupboard in whites and pastel colors. Because Easter is so early this year, these decorations actually went up during a birthday celebration in our home. Since then the lilies have gone and the hydrangeas have dried nicely.
This old cupboard was my mother-in-laws.
The old china is from a relative whom, sadly, moved away.
I picked up this egg candy dish for five dollars at a flee market this year.
Hydrangeas are some of my most favorite flowers.
The woven, porcelain basket was acquired
several years ago at another flee market.
One of my happy finds at a local antique mall, a covered
porcelain dish covered with three dimensional daisies.
White Easter lilies are now gone but I
have this lovely photo to remember them.
Decorated crepe paper tulip cup cake holders and tulip favors may be happily arranged on this spring table trimmed for Easter. Yellow tulips are cut out and appliqued on the circular paper cover; the tulip border is combined with plain yellow paper for the runner and again appears in the hanging dome decoration. Fringe cut and then scalloped hangs between the border pieces on the chandelier decoration, and narrow streamers extend from it to the sides of the room.
A flower pot covered with two different colors of crepe, (stripes)
and filled with paper tulips in which favors are attached,
makes this little display unique. These little coordinating
accessories: potted tulip place holder and cup cake holders
complete the theme.
I've hunted all around about among the garden rows;
I've looked in every corner but what do you suppose?
Though I‚'ve asked everybody, not anybody knows
In what part of the garden the Easter egg-plant grows.
Little hen, speckled hen, Eastertide has come again;
Do me a favor, now I beg, lay me a pretty Easter egg.
The little white rabbits, so they say, lay bright-colored eggs
on Easter day;
Green and purple and red and blue, I've seen the eggs, so I
know 'tis true!
by Harriet B. Sterling
Description of Coloring Page: two coloring pages of "where Easter eggs grow" in the arms of children of course!, Children in Germany used to receive Easter surprises inside really big, decorated, paper mache eggs! It is not so common any longer.
Click to get a larger version.
Don't forget to drag the png. or jpg into a Word Document and enlarge the image
as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question
about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located
directly below this post and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I
can.
The story of Peter is not the most beautiful of the tales that gather about the Man of Galilee, but it is the most precious, for it is a story of a man who fell, but rose again.
Those three nights and two days glared in Peter's mind through his after years as one hideous dream; that calm Figure, majestic, in spite of the bonds; the rabble crew about the fire; and then that girl's face, Hashing out the challenge that struck him with terror, so that ere he knew, he had stammered out his denial. But clearer than all remained that look of pain and love that pierced him to the heart and drove him forth into the night.
But neither shame nor fear could hold him in his hiding while his Lord was being done to death; so through the day he followed the crowd, safe hidden, and watched for that display of power that would set him free; watched in vain.
He followed to Calvary. From behind the rocks he watched the horrid scene. In his own hands he felt the drive of the nails, upon his own brow the tearing thorns, and in his own side the spear thrust to the heart- felt, but dared not utter his cry.
Then, what place in all the world was left for the man who has dishonored his name, broken his faith, denied his Lord? The city? It is overflowing with the jubilant slayers of his Master. The upper room? There is no place for a traitor in that band. Outside the city wall where they cast their refuse, out to Gehenna, on that rugged ridge, illumined by the baleful fires that never sleep, Peter spends his weary night. Suddenly through the grey light he sees a figure flying as if pursued by demons. The hunted man flings a rope round over the bough of a tree, trembling hands adjust it about his neck, then hurls himself headlong, down upon the rocks below. "Poor Judas! You waited for no look of piercing love when you went forth into the night."A new terror shakes Peter's soul, and drives him to the upper room. With relentless self-abasement, he told them his sin and shame, ending, "And on me cursing he cast a look as if he loved me still." With humble compassion they took him to their hearts, too conscious of the coward in themselves to be hard with the man who had denied and suffered. And then through the morning light sounded the sacred trumpets from the temple announcing that the Great Feast Day was upon them, while their Lord, the Son of God, lay dead in Joseph's tomb.
Night falls. The last glad trumpet note has ceased, the sounds of the street die down. The men doze off into horrid dreams, but the women do not sleep, they steal down the stairs. It is for them to anoint and garb that precious body for its final rest. Peter waits behind, and over the sad hours of the past days and nights his heart makes weary pilgrimage.
But hark! There is a sound of running feet! The door bursts open, and the women fling forth their news, their glorious, unbelievable news. The tomb is empty! He is alive!
"God of Abraham! God of the living, can it be?"
Peter is down the stairs and up the street, running hard, after him, John.
But they may save their breath. The tomb is empty, rifled of its dead. Greatly wondering, they return to their company. It is after all only a silly woman's tale.
But upon them, the door opens again. It is the Magdalene, calm and controlled, but with eyes and face aglow with exultant glory. "He is alive! I have seen him with these eyes! I have held him by the feet! He knew me! He called me by my name! And he gave me a message to you, Peter."
"No, no, not to me. Not to me."
"Yes, he said distinctly, 'Tell Peter'‚" and she gives her message.
But Peter is gone to find his Lord. With one swift leap, his heart has passed from despair to faith.
Out of the city gate, but not to Calvary, not to the tomb. Out to the old trysting spot on Olivet, up to the garden where they were wont to meet.
"Oh, to see him once again, to tell him of my love." His sobs grow quiet, and he becomes aware of a Presence.
Was it a moment, or was it an hour? Peter never knew; but when he came to himself he was on his way back to the city. They who met him wondered at his face. "I have seen him," he said, "and HE IS JUST THE SAME!"
Tell the world that Jesus is the same.
Tell the sick of the world he is the same; his sympathy as quick, his help as ready as of old.
Tell the outcast he is the same; his fine chivalry making him their champion as before.
Tell those who mourn their dead he is just the same; his word as
mighty to revive.
Tell the whole world, burdened with sin and sorrow, that Jesus, through the glorious risen Lord, is the same; as much a man as ever, as strong and tender as when he walked with the joyous crowds by the sunny waters of Galilee. JESUS IS THE SAME.
"He is the same" mused Peter to his friend, "and yet, he is not the same."
"Said he nought to you of your ------?"
"Of my sin? Nay, one word only, as I poured it forth, 'Speak no longer of your sin; it lies buried in my tomb' Then it was he spake most like a King, as if he had won the right to bestow his pardon where he would."
Came a day when they led Peter forth to meet his doom. And when they would have laid him on his Cross, he spoke, "Suffer my head to lie where lay his feet." And so they crucified him, unafraid, for he knew that through Jesus's grave lay the path to life and that in Jesus's grave lie man's sins. by Ralph Connor
"Praise You Just The Same"
"I recorded this song for my first album ' He Hears Me'. Kevin Hunt on
piano. It always lifts me after a tough day or if I'm going thru a hard
season. The pictures are dedicated to the raw beauty of Scotland." Deborah Dicembre