We would never learn to be brave and patient if we only had joy in our lives. ~friend of a friend
Our hearts are like stone, and only suffering carves them into bowls big enough to catch the joy. ~Strangers and Sojourners, Michael D. O'Brien.
There is something about Good Friday that pulls me into the quiet. It is a day unlike any other in the year. Even while caring for David while he throws a tantrum in his room, or wiping Evan's nose, or running to the bank and picking up cheese at the store, I am caught up in the quiet of death.
He hung on the cross for three hours. His body was put through brutal torture. His soul carried the grief of millions. The psychological and emotional pain were deserts upon deserts of suffering. There has never been a human born who has known that kind of pain.
Yet every drop of blood was a gift of mercy for me and you. We are sitting at the foot of the cross being baptized in his never-ending stream of love. With each labored breath, Jesus filled his lungs with our sorrow and exhaled forgiveness, dispelling the stench of our sin.
Good Friday is about his death--his Holy Death. There is no crucifix that can adequately depict the death of Jesus. But I need to sit before the image and respond to the reality of what he did and still does for me.
