it’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’
He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our guilt and iniquities; the chastisement [needful to obtain] peace and well-being for us was upon Him, and with the stripes [that wounded] Him we are healed and made whole. — Isaiah 53:5
It’s Friday. The Romans beat my Jesus. They robe Him in scarlet. They crown Him with thorns. But they don’t know that Sunday’s comin’.
It’s Friday. See Jesus walking to Calvary. His blood dripping. His body stumbling. And His spirit’s burdened. But you see, it’s only Friday. Sunday’s comin’.
It’s Friday. The soldiers nailed my Savior’s hands to the cross. They nailed my Savior’s feet to the cross. And then they raised Him up next to criminals.
It’s Friday. But let me tell you something… Sunday’s comin’.
It’s Friday. He’s hanging on the cross. Feeling forsaken by His father. Left alone and dying. Can nobody save Him? Oh, it’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’.
It’s Friday. Hope is lost. Death has won. Sin has conquered. And Satan’s just a-laughing.
It’s Friday. Jesus is buried. A soldier stands guard, and a rock is rolled into place.
But it’s Friday. It is only Friday. Sunday is a-comin’.
from a sermon by S.M. Lockridge, click to hear the entire passage