I’m writing this on what we Christians refer to as “Good Friday” – the day Jesus died on the cross to atone for the sins of all who will place faith in Him. The Easter season is usually very exciting and busy around our house. My husband is a minister at our church, I am active in our music and worship ministry, and these combined usually make for a lot of activity. Somehow, this year feels different, and I am struggling to understand and process how I am to celebrate Easter and remember Christ’s sacrifice this weekend.
Much has happened in the nearly three months since I last posted here. My mother, who had been fighting cancer for about 2 1/2 years passed away on February 23. In March, my birthday came and went. I was sick on the actual day, and was unable to do all that I had planned, including singing a duet with my husband at church. And, yes, I celebrated with a pity party.
Last week, some of our closest friends here moved to Alabama. We have family members and friends struggling with all sorts of things – illness, disability, family turmoil. We see conflict and troubles among the membership of our church. The immediate future seems rather stressful, as we want to do so much but can actually do so little.
In the middle of all of these emotions, I find myself at Good Friday. Rather than preparing myself to celebrate Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice and victory, I shamefully admit that I have been wallowing in self-pity over my circumstances. And, yet, this is exactly why Jesus came. We live in a world that will always be tainted by the fall of man – our sin carries consequences far beyond ourselves and all we can imagine. Our world is literally falling apart as a result of sin and the death it brings.
For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many. Mark 10:45
Jesus died to take away my self-pity.
He died for my guilt and shame.
He died so that I could stand before the Father with my hurt and pain.
He died so that I would not have to.
Good Friday is the dark day of Easter weekend. The disciples and followers of Jesus who were on that hillside went home with absolutely no hope for the future. My despair over my circumstances does not compare with all that they felt that night.
But I know something that they did not.
Sunday is coming. At the end of it all, Sunday is coming, and all will be made right. This is our hope.