Good Friday

A day of death that we call good. Good because it is by the grace shown on this day that we have life. Good because He could have left us to wither in our inequities. But the love was too great for that. A sacrifice to end all sacrifices. No more lamb’s blood. Because His blood covered it all. He is the Lamb.

And we are redeemed.

A little boy spills the dirt and says, “Oh, I’m not very good at this.” And don’t we all? Not a perfect one among us. I am a collection of flaws and failures. And I find myself saying, “I’m not good at this.”

And so I see the dirt here. And I think of my own dirt. Spilling out. And yet, He’s used me- dirt and all- to speak His name. I see the water. And see how I’ve been cleaned of every whisper that says, “You’re not good enough. Look what you’ve done.”

I see the seeds. And I see the new life He has planted. I see the broken eggshells. And I see myself. Broken. To be tossed out? No.

To be given a new life.

For a purpose.

The emptiness filled.

And so we remember today:

From death came life.

The greatest sacrifice brought salvation.

Today He died. But the story didn’t end there.