Dear Jesus,

We call today Good Friday, but was it good for You?

You left your glorious throne in Heaven to lay in an animal’s feeding trough.

You put down your magnificent crown to put on a crown of thorns. How could it have been good?

You had no where to lay your head atimes.

You were misunderstood.

You were mocked.

You were rejected.

You were forsaken.

You were hated.

You suffered.

You were in agony.

You sweated blood.

Man of sorrows, how could it have been good?

You wanted the cup, that bitter cup, taken away from you if at all possible, how could it have been good?

You were betrayed by those you called friends, your heart breaking at the shattering sound of denial, how could it have been good?

You were whipped. It was not a smooth whip you endured, which would have been torture enough, but a scourge – with metal spikes, balls and bones dangling from its lethal ends, with brutal force from brute men. How could it have been good?

Your beautiful hands, hands that brought healing and cleansing, were pierced with dirty nails. Each blow of the hammer must have been agony magnified. How could it have been good?

Your feet, beautiful feet that brought good news, were disfigured with nails. How could it have been good?

Your status was mocked. Your face was spat on. Your very essence was questioned. How could it have been good?

You could have said no. You could have called a legion of angels to rescue you. You could have walked away from it all.

But You did not.

You wanted it to be good for me even when it certainly wasn’t good for You.

You chose a grim life on Earth if it meant a glorious life in Heaven for me.

You chose pain if it meant healing for me.

You chose death if it meant life for me.

You deemed it good because it meant we could be reconciled to Our Father.

It was not You that separated us; It was our actions, not Yours, that caused this gulf.

Yet You took the first step, the hard step, the excruciating step, to reconcile us.

I was unworthy, but You deemed me worthy.

It was not ‘fair’, but You did it anyway.

It cost too much, it cost everything in fact, but You did it anyway.

You chose to say yes to the most precious, painful, powerful sacrifice of all.

For love.

For me.

For us.

My Jesus, My Lord, My God… Words fail me. What can I do? What can I say?

Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.

For lavishly displaying Your love for me on the cross.

For freely giving me what was oh so costly to You.

For deeming death good because it meant life together with You for eternity.

How can I ever match such a gift?

May I never, ever take for granted Your sacrifice, Your love, Your passion, Your grace, You.

You died for me. What else can I do but live for You?

Help me learn from You Lord. Help me live like You Lord. Help me love like You Lord.

Help me truly make You Lord.

That’s all I ask this ‘Good’ Friday. That’s all I dare ask. In Your Very Precious Name Dear Jesus, Amen.

(Matthew 26-27, Mark 14-15, Luke 22-23).   

       

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