I celebrate the empty cross
  Each day and all year through.
  In every prayer I say, and tear I shed,
  I grasp God’s only truth.

  His Son died for each and every one of us.
  His blood cleansed every sin.
  And when He died that fateful day.
  He awaited hearts to let Him in.

  Some dwell on a cross, so full of grief,
  A sense of loss is there.
  But our Lord has shed His earthly ties.
  And the cross I know is bare.

  He no longer resides upon its face,
  For His life has paid the cost.
  He has risen again, His blood so cleansed,
  Our sins, our lives, our cross.

       Wendy L. Kohlhoff