I looked for God, and found Him in the grave,
Guarded by soldiers, sealed by stone and seal;
What hope have we that God can truly save?
For God is dead, that One who was most real.
Our Savior lies entombed and wrapped in cloth,
And now we wait for—what? We do not know.
We wait—yet Jesus' death has cut a swath
Through hope, and we do not know where to go.
We wait for something, hoping even still,
As on this Sabbath day our Lord lies dead;
Our hope's not gone, for hope is hard to kill.
And so we wait, not knowing what's ahead.
O, you who wait, take heart! All is not done,
But simply hope in that almighty One.
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