Every year Good Friday becomes an increasingly difficult day for me.
This year, the sky is dark, and it is windy and steadily raining. Fitting weather for such a somber day.
It's hard for me to hold in my head the gravity of today. The depth of sorrow and pain, is hard to stomach. I try to hold onto the image of my Jesus on the cross, broken and scourged in the worst imaginable ways. I try to hold onto him and honor him, but it's a fight to keep my mind in that space. It is so dark, so hopeless, so full of guilt, I subconsciously push it away.
But today is the day I need to be in that dark place. To remember the immense sacrifice. To remember that Jesus endured the darkness of Hell (God shut him out and turned away) so I wouldn't have to bear that eternal rejection of the Father.
It's too big for me to grasp, really. I am so small, so wretched, so undeserving, and yet Jesus loves me. It sounds trite and overstated, but I know no other way.
It seems so easy to tune out these thoughts, move on to happier things, but I'm trying not to. I'm trying. Because today my Savior dies, and will be buried, and the world will be bleak and dark and empty because I am nothing without him. But on Sunday his tomb will be empty, and he will have conquered even death.
Amazing love. Amazing grace.
I can only be thankful and full of awe.