But the Lord is with me like a dread champion;
Therefore my persecutors will stumble and not prevail.
They will be utterly ashamed, because they have failed,
With an everlasting disgrace that will not be forgotten.
The screams and of shock and defeat still reverberate in hell to this day.
Yet on Holy Saturday, all heaven must have held its breath in suspense. Imagine the ecstatic shouts, early Sunday morning, as they heard the news of the Lord's victory -- and that He would soon be returning home! Time in heaven goes at a different pace than our time, but I've often wondered how anyone in heaven withstood even a millisecond away from Him, let alone thirty-three years.
Thank You, sweet Majesty, for bearing pain and death for us, so that we may know You. The sweet music that filled heaven on that first Easter morning surely still resounds, and always will. Your rescued ones join in the song.
Praise You forever, incomparable Lord Jesus!