Death, Pass over.

Egypt, Judgement was coming.

Justice was coming.

Death was in the air.

But where was mercy to be found when death abounds?

Under the blood of a lamb.

Blood, upon the door.

It writes, this family belongs to the Lord.

Death, pass over.

But God’s people were slaves.

Paying an endless debt to their spiteful King.

Not anymore.

The exodus.

God’s people were freed that night.

 Judgement is coming for each one of us.

Justice is coming.

Death is in the air.

But where is mercy to be found when death hunts us like a hound?

Under the blood of the Lamb.

The blood upon the cross.

For the one who looks upon the tree,

The Lord says of you, “This one belongs to me.”

Death, pass over.

Once bound by the prince of the world, we were slaves.  

Once bound by the fear of our graves.

Not anymore.

God’s people are freed.

Whom the Son sets free is free indeed.

God, the great storyteller.

He tells his story through history.

He paints a picture with his words.

In the first Passover, God was sketching an outline.

But on that fateful Passover, God fulfilled the work, once for all time.

What he had done, told of what he would do.

And in each of his pictures, he has left us a clue.

In place of the firstborn, a lamb in its stead.

But now the firstborn of all creation takes our place in his death.

Salvation through Substitution.

Death, Pass over.