Good Friday

It’s Good Friday. A strange day of sadness and wonder. Even stranger to not be able to share it in person with friends this year.

This year I’ve put together (with technical wonder from the husbandface) a devotional for our church on Gethsemane and the permission it gives us to feel our pain and lament in this life:

In it I reference the excellent Rich Mullins song: Hard to Get. It sums up all I feel about Good Friday, the pain of this life and, in a strange way, gratitude at having a God I can cry out to in the midst of pain.

And here’s a poem:

To stay.

To know you could have got down, walked away, had the power to make this stop.

To stare.

Horrorstruck.

Surely he can do it. Turn this around? He calmed that storm. He made Lazurus come back to life.

Why does he stay?

Why? He offered us hope and he turns his back?

Why. Why won’t you come down?

To stay.

To take on the darkness
To hold tight in the pain
To go through being wrenched from all I love.

To stay.

To gaze.

Seeing that pinprick of light at the end of this tunnel.
For that.
For that Joy.
For that one day soon.
For that slow dawn.

For the death defeated final shout.

For people pouring through the curtain into the arms of their Maker.

For hope.
For light.

I stay.

I will take this darkenss
which has never understood or overcome me.

To stare.

All is lost. This is the end.

A mothers hope destroyed.

Can I go back? Back to what?

It was all for nothing.
I will get back into my boat

To stare. At what?

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