Good Friday

I began my morning listening to a podcast that comes from 24-7 Prayer Spaces. I know that this may come as a surprise to many of you, but I am very careful about the emotions I allow into my heart. I get easily overwhelmed by emotions and consequently, I don't walk into emotional situations if I can help it. The next point that I need to make is that I avoid the emotions of Good Friday / Easter like the plague! I simply can't watch a movie about Jesus Christ. I know what is going to happen and the pain of watching it is more than I can take.

So, I listened to the Good Friday podcast. On purpose. And of course, I cried through the whole thing. But, there was a reason. I'm not even sure that they said the words plainly, but my imagination took off in the quiet spaces of that podcast. I saw myself at the foot of the cross. Oh, I allowed myself to see the brokenness of Jesus' body and I wept. But, then, as I sensed the tears and blood flowing over me from the cross I began to look around.

I saw his mother and I sensed the pain that she was feeling as she watched this man she loved more than anything going through torture. There was nothing she could do. I saw his close friends, helpless ... lost. I considered the pain that they were feeling as they could do nothing to rescue their very best friend! My heart began to break for those people that loved this man with incredible depth. All of them knew that Jesus was doing this as a sacrifice. They knew that He didn't deserve it. They knew that they didn't deserve the amount of love that He had for them. Each one of them, like any human, had screwed up somewhere in the relationship with Jesus and yet ... there they were, experiencing the worst thing a friend could imagine.

I think of the time that I got on the plane after meeting Max the first time and falling in love with him. Now, I knew that we would see each other again in a month, but even at the beginning of our relationship I didn't want to face being without him. I cried and I cried as we sat together in the airport, waiting for that plane. I couldn't imagine no longer being able to look into his face or being unable to hold his hand. I wanted to stay or take him on the plane with me. But, the time came that we had to be separated. I waited until the last moment to get on the plane and my heart broke all the way back to Omaha.

The nights that I sat in the hospital with my mom. I knew that I had a very short time left with her. Every moment that I could be there was precious to me. I crawled into her bed and held on with all I had. I did everything to help her physically during those last weeks. I preferred doing that to having a nurse in the room with us. Those moments were mine. And then, that final night, as she lay dying, I faced the reality that I was going to meet the rest of my life without her.

So today, I allowed ... no, I asked for ... emotions to flood through me as I thought about the people who loved Jesus dearly while He was on this earth. Because today, by facing the loss of someone so dear, we are able to experience the reality of the resurrection.

Within a couple of days after arriving in Omaha, Max and I began planning for my next trip to North Carolina. We lined up the moving van, he began cleaning out his condo and packing to move. You see, the next time I saw him, I wasn't going to have to leave him. I was going to be getting into that moving van with him and we were beginning our life together.

I still miss mom terribly, but I'm planning for the reunion in heaven. I can't wait.

Sunday morning. Resurrection Sunday. Jesus returns to life and gives us back the hope that He came to bring to us. His family and friends had to face the grief of the cross so that all people could know the joy of new life.

Thank you, Lord Jesus.