He did, so he can

He did—

so now, forever, He can.

He did work wonders that defied the laws of earth and time. He touched the blind and they saw. He spoke to the storm and it bowed.

He called the dead by name and they rose.

He did heal—bodies broken, hearts shattered, souls unraveling.

He laid hands on wounds the world couldn’t see,

and made them whole.

He did comfort—with eyes full of mercy and arms wide as eternity,

He knelt beside the weary, sat with the grieving,

whispered peace into panic.

He did weep—tears that tasted of our pain,

falling not from weakness but from a love

so fierce it broke open heaven.

He did rise— from the grave, from the silence, from the darkness. He emerged wrapped not in linen but in victory. Death could not hold Him.

Sin could not stain Him.

Hell could not keep Him.

He did win—once for all, once for us.

And because He did,

He can now.

He can speak life over your dry bones.

He can calm the chaos you don’t know how to name. He can hold you through the nights that never seem to end. He can heal the ache you’ve buried deep.

He can—because He did.

And He will—because His love never ceases.

Not then.

Not now.

Not ever.

Let that be your hope. Let that be your healing.

He did.

So He can.

And He will.