24 July 2009

Waiting for Sunday

At setting sun on Thursday night they all ate that last meal
They argued over which of them should have the greatest power
Then later as their teacher prayed and sweat great drops of blood
They couldn’t keep themselves awake even for an hour
When the traitor finally came and kissed their master’s cheek
Then all they who said they’d stand and fight took off like sheep

They nailed Him to a wooden cross that fateful Friday morn
His body lay in Joseph’s tomb by nightfall on that day
They didn’t stop to think of it while fearing for their lives
But there they were behind closed doors waiting for Sunday

A son has left his mom and dad to strike out on his own
Thursday night he chose a path his mom knows he’ll regret
So somewhere on this Saturday a faithful mother prays
Committing him to her Lord she finds strength not to fret
Begging the One she’s come to know to reach her wayward son
Knowing what the Father does we may consider done

By faith this mother sees the light even when it’s dark
She doesn’t know the answer to the prayer she prays today
And she's too busy praying now to think ahead at all
But she’ll find strength to carry on waiting for Sunday

Last Friday brother Joey called to say that Mom had died
I hadn’t been home to see her in nigh on thirty years
But knowing now I couldn’t broke my hardened heart
And driving home to Texas I lost the road in tears
Saturday just had to be the worst day I’ve endured
But at that Sunday Funeral Mama’s prayer was answered

On Sunday the disciples found an empty sepulcher
Those on their way to Emaus found meaning for it all
It’s too bad Mama isn’t here but guess she’s prob’ly heard
On Sunday Mama’s wayward son came back into the fold

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