The Stone Still Rolls

(From the viewpoint of the stone rolled away)

I was set in place—cold, carved, and wide,

A tomb’s great seal where hope had died.

No hand could move me, none could sway,

I stood as death’s decree that day.

They laid Him down—so still, so torn,

A King once crowned with thorns and scorn.

The Healer’s hands, now pierced and bound,

Wrapped in silence, wrapped in shroud.

The skies grew dim, the earth stood still,

As heaven wept upon the hill.

They rolled me close, the grave was sealed—

The end of all He’d touched and healed.

Three days I stood without a sound,

While grief and darkness wrapped the ground.

No voice, no breath, no light, no flame—

Just echoes of a cursed name.

The guards stood tall, their gazes sure,

Convinced that death would long endure.

And I—the stone—held tight my place,

The final mark of man’s disgrace.

But then… a whisper stirred the air,

A shift, a surge, a light so rare.

No mortal force, no soldier’s might,

Could summon what broke forth that night.

He rose—not needing me to slide,

Not trapped within the tomb inside.

The grave could never hold the Son,

The fight was over, death undone.

But still I rolled, at His command,

By heaven’s voice, not human hand.

Not for His sake, but ours instead—

To show the living He’s not dead.

To show the world what love had done,

That life had triumphed—Christ had won!

That every tomb could now release,

And broken hearts could rise in peace.

And now I roll through time and space,

Wherever hearts cry out for grace.

For prodigals and those who mourn,

For souls ashamed, for dreams still torn.

For weary moms with tear-stained eyes,

For men who think they’ve lived in lies.

For doubters, wrecked and barely whole—

I move at whispers from the soul.

He calls, and still I break apart

The stones that press on human hearts.

No grave too deep, no night too long,

Where Christ won’t come and make you strong.

He speaks, and chains begin to break.

He moves, and souls begin to wake.

For every fear, for every scar—

The tomb is empty where You are.

No past too vile, no wound too wide,

For mercy now walks at your side.

The stone once sealed—now rolled away—

To show the Light, the Truth, the Way.

And when that trumpet splits the skies,

And saints from every age arise,

I’ll roll once more at His command,

As Heaven claims its promised land.

For death will die, and tears will cease,

And Christ will reign in endless peace.

And every soul will lift and say—

“The stone still rolls. He lives today.”