Today is Good Friday.
A bittersweet day.
A day of sadness and sorrow.
But also a day of remembrance, realignment, and hope. Because we know what is coming next. Sunday!
However, today, I urge you not to push past the sadness into Sunday.
Rather linger here a little while longer.
Sit in the story of Jesus. Sit with him as he endures torture and humiliation.
Sit with him as he says,
“Father, the hour has come” John 17:1
Sit with him on this day, the day he dies. The day he dies for each and every one of us.
To help you do this, ponder over this poignant poem.
Let it transport you to a garden at nightfall.
Where you’ll find a man on bended knees.
To a night that changes history.
Brittle leaves and dappled evening light
Soon to be gathered and crushed to
Crickets trill in the hush of nightfall as
he walks alone,
Feet dusty but fragrant with the
perfume of kings.
Tomorrow these same feet will
stumble bloodied through the streets,
then be bound and nailed to a tree.
But tonight they shuffle through the
fallen leaves and sun bleached grasses of
Free to run or fight;
He comes to pray at the crossroads of
Kneeling, deathly sorrow weighs on
his limbs and echoes in his words;
“Father… may this cup be taken from
me”? This bitter cup the heavy cost of
“But not my will but yours be done” he
As his feet point towards the cross
To be pierced, crushed and poured
out for love.
Poem by the lovely Kelsey Johnston