IN JUST FOUR DAYS, we will be celebrating the greatest event in all of human history—the resurrection of Jesus Christ. It was without a doubt the most glorious day because it signaled the death of death. It ushered in a new age---an age of freedom, hope and certainty of life beyond the grave. If Christ be not risen, our faith is vain (1 Cor. 15:14). The whole of the New Testament revelation rests on this as an historical fact. On the day of Pentecost, Peter argued the necessity of Christ's resurrection from the prediction in Psalm 16 (Acts 2:24-28). In his own discourses, also, our Lord clearly prophesied his resurrection. Easter means that our enemies, sin, the curse, and death, are beaten. Because He lives we can face tomorrow, because He lives, all fear is gone, because we know He holds the future, and life is worth the livin, just because He lives.
The story is told about a distinguished man, the only white person buried in a Georgia cemetery reserved exclusively for blacks. He had lost his mother when he was just a baby. His father, who never married again, hired a black woman named Mandy to help raise his son. She was a Christian and she took her assignment seriously. Seldom has a motherless boy received such warmhearted attention. One of his earliest memories was of Mandy bending tenderly over him in his upstairs bedroom each day and softly saying, “Wake up---God’s mornin’ is come.”
As the years passed this devoted woman continued to serve as his surrogate mother. Eventually the young man went away to college, but when he would come home on holidays and in the summer she would still climb the stairs and call him in the same loving way.
One day after he had become a successful statesman, the sad message came: “Mandy is dead. Can you attend her funeral?” As he stood by her grave in the cemetery, he turned to his friends and said, “When I die, I want to be buried here beside Mandy. I like to think that on Resurrection Day she’ll speak to me again and say, “Wake up, my boy, God’s morning” is come!”
The story is told about a distinguished man, the only white person buried in a Georgia cemetery reserved exclusively for blacks. He had lost his mother when he was just a baby. His father, who never married again, hired a black woman named Mandy to help raise his son. She was a Christian and she took her assignment seriously. Seldom has a motherless boy received such warmhearted attention. One of his earliest memories was of Mandy bending tenderly over him in his upstairs bedroom each day and softly saying, “Wake up---God’s mornin’ is come.”
As the years passed this devoted woman continued to serve as his surrogate mother. Eventually the young man went away to college, but when he would come home on holidays and in the summer she would still climb the stairs and call him in the same loving way.
One day after he had become a successful statesman, the sad message came: “Mandy is dead. Can you attend her funeral?” As he stood by her grave in the cemetery, he turned to his friends and said, “When I die, I want to be buried here beside Mandy. I like to think that on Resurrection Day she’ll speak to me again and say, “Wake up, my boy, God’s morning” is come!”

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