There is a great fog on this morning, much as I imagine that Sacred Sunday was so long ago. The trees shrouded in soft respect as The One Most Holy lingered there around His grave waiting on His beloveds to show themselves. He was a new man, something He had never experienced before, a risen Lord still in human form. He had done it, passed from life to death and now His Father had accomplished the greatest of all miracles, a path through death to life for humans of which His Son, Our Savior, was the first. Dead Sin Soaked Savior now lingered in the early morning mist waiting for His beloved humans to come to Him; Him Alive; Risen; SAVIOR.
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