Good Friday

IT WASN'T A GOOD FRIDAY by Harry Page It wasn't a Good Friday, the day that Jesus died, He'd suffered and been tortured, and probably had cried, Seen Herod and seen Pilate, and the Sanhedrin too, All of this he took, for love of me and you. It wasn't a Good Friday; the Devil seemed to win, But Jesus knew he'd come to save us all from sin, The prophesies were fulfilled, all the boxes ticked, But Satan didn't realise, that now he had been licked. It wasn't a Good Friday, the disciples ran away, When they saw the soldiers they knew they couldn't stay, Only John and Peter followed with the throng, While Jesus being marched away, knew he must be strong. It wasn't a Good Friday; the skull place was ahead, The nails, the cross, the mocking, the spear that says you're dead, But all of this he had to bear, it was part of God's plan, To give his all for each of us, as Jesus only can. It wasn't a Good Friday, now God had turned away, Utterly forsaken, this was the darkest day, He could have called the angels to save him from this pain, But stayed and died so we could come at last to heaven again. It was a great Good Friday, ‘It's finished' was his cry, A shout that would have carried, up to God on high, He had, he'd won the battle, and death defeated too, Paid the price, set us free, new life for me and you. So think on this Good Friday, what costs he had to pay, To bring us to the Father, to take us all the way, So put your trust in Jesus, give him allegiance true, He loved you and he died for you, and now it's up to you.