It’s the pre-sunrise “blue time” as I write this. I’m staring ahead at a tree silhouetted against the early predawn sky. The others have their spring green jewelry. It’s hard to make out in this “blue time” if that tree has any leaves at all. I suspect not.
There is something eerily wrong about a naked tree against a grayish blue sky.
And as rain begins to splatter against the window I remember it’s the Day.
This one is the sad day.
This one is the heart wrenching day.
And I’m sorry Lord.
I’m sorry that you had to do what you did
because of me,
because of us.
don’t tell anybody…
but a tear rolls down a cheek…
and then the other.
Because it’s not fair.
Because it’s my fault. It’s our fault.
Before the joy of Easter comes the dark of this day – comes the tree with no leaves against the ashen sky with the storm clouds crying tears over the earth.
It is so ridiculously unfair what happened on Good Friday.
As a child two things truly confused me about Holy Week.
First, Maundy Thursday was crazy – how could Thursday be a Monday? Religion was clearly very wrong about some stuff.
Second. Good Friday?
On a day when everything went wrong,
and all His friends deserted him,
and his mom was right there,
but she couldn’t touch him,
and he died,
and the skies darkened,
and graves turned over,
and the earth heaved.
“What was good about this Friday?” I thought.
I get both now. Thursday isn’t Monday and God takes the broken and fixes it.
The last time I took Laska the love kitty to feed the ducks he was so afraid he clung to my shoulder with those claws of his. He didn’t mean to hurt me but I’ve still got the stripes on my left shoulder – the four. long. red. lines.
I knew his claws were digging into me. I could feel the flesh tearing. And it hurt, to be sure. But I could see the fear on his face and I kind of didn’t mind. In a broken world helping sometimes costs blood. And you sometimes you kind of don’t mind. No?
I know most of you guys are moms.
So you know this better than me.
It’s lighter now, but not yet day. The sun has risen – yet is still hidden behind the rain and the storm clouds. The tree is more visible. It’s broken. If it’s not dead – it’s dying.
It’s all wrong.
Everything is wrong.
It’s hard to stay happy.
Bad stuff happens to people who don’t deserve it.
There’s sickness, and abuse, and people caring for themselves first always – always “me” first. And I’m the worst of the “me” first crowd. “Chief of sinners”. I get those words now Paul. I thought you were over a little over the top for the longest time – but I get it now.
I’m sorry God.
The ones who aren’t “me first” are you moms – who care for everyone else first. But even that’s twisted and you often don’t care for yourselves enough.
Everything is broken.
One moment everything changed.
The Earth was, if not perfect, “very good”.
And then it wasn’t.
That’s kind of heartbreaking.
And people wonder how God could be heartbroken when he knows the end from the beginning. So he clearly couldn’t have been surprised by the Fall. So what’s with the broken heart?
You know everything. You knew what would happen. And Your heart breaks?
What’s with that?!
But then I simply look at how I cry every time Dorothy says goodbye to the Scarecrow, and when all the people rush in, to save George Bailey from disaster, on Christmas Eve. I know what’s coming, it isn’t new – but those tears still come. every. single. time.
My sister’s cat who was there through her darkest of days is deathly ill.
The last year has seen the death of her beloved puppy,
and the birth of her first baby,
and a lot of hard growing up,
and soon it looks like the death of her feline best friend…
Good Friday Continues on Deep into Love. You can stop reading here if you’d like. I thank you for reading this far. Really, thank you. But if you want to see where this all ends, and I think you’ll like how it ends, just press here to go there.