On this Good Friday,
The wind blows darkened clouds
Across the horizon.
There will be sunshine by Sunday,
And a celebration of Your gift,
For all the world bows before its Savior,
As His light falls brightly upon us.

In Your image and likeness
Are we made,
More gifts upon us
From Thy loving hand.

Is this life a test
As we follow Thee?
Can we ever be
Who you want us to be?

I will do as Thou asks
And will give of myself.
In every task
Will be spiritual wealth.

Oh, Dear Jesus,
You are the Lord of all,
I'm counting on your presence
When I trip and fall.

Please raise me up on that last day,
And invite me to your home,
Where in your presence I will stay,
If Thou wilt take me as Thine own.