“I’m going home…”
“I can’t carry the pain of this broken world. / But. . . / He did.”
“Will there be grief in my Savior’s eyes–Grief, though He loves me still?”
“This malefactor, first to come, / Leads all the ransomed sinners Home!”
We’re often like reservoirs, holding in all the grace and gifts, instead of rivers, letting it all flow through us to others.
As bright colors and loud booms filled the air on Earth, angels’ songs and saints’ cheers filled the air in Heaven.