Good Friday...

Good Friday is always a somber day, but today, it seemed to be even more so... I found myself in complete awe of God. Though I have found myself in that place many times, today seemed different. Today I found the love of God so clearly. 

I woke up this morning thinking about all of the things that I had to do today: make a dessert, meet people at different places, finish up a project for church, do homework, and I am sure there were other things on that list and I had a plan for most of it... So I went to work marking off my list.

As I sat in the sanctuary this afternoon as people came through the Meditations on the Cross, my mind was on homework, people I cared about, my future, all the things going on in my life, I was so concerned about me. But as I looked at the cross that was laying on the floor, I had this constantly nagging question in my mind, "Why? Why would Christ die for me? I don't deserve it, yet he did it anyways."

All afternoon as I looked at that cross, I couldn't shake that question of why... I thought about what I had read in scripture and what I had read in books. I thought about the pain that went along with being hung on a cross. I thought about the humiliation. About how it wasn't meant to be quick, but to really last. About darkness. I thought very much about darkness. 

Darkness. I can imagine that day being very dark, maybe not outside, but on the souls of every follower of Jesus, it had to be dark and feel very lonely. This day wasn't about me. It wasn't about the people in the room, it wasn't about the projects or the homework. This day was about remembering. This day was about remembering that God loved me so much. This day was about remembering that Christ gave up everything so that I could love. This day was about finding worth in every human being, because Christ found worth in every human being as he hung there professing his love for each one. 

As I sat down tonight on my bed, I opened up my journal that I so happened to have with me all day, and wrote in as I sat there. I looked at the opposite page of where I was writing and I found this quote by J. Ruth Gendler. "The dictionary defines night in terms of day and day in terms of night. Can we find a way to talk about light and dark without talking about good and bad? To love both day and night? Can we hold the beauty of both in the same breath?"

How appropriate to read that on this day. We cannot define darkness without light, nor can we define light without darkness. This day is dark. It is possibly a dark night in the soul, or the darkness night we know, but because we know the darkness, in the death and heartache of Christ, we can also know the light, in the resurrection that is soon to come. To have the light, we must have the darkness, otherwise we cannot appreciate the light for what it truly is. Beautiful, grace-filled, loving, caring, compassionate LIGHT. 

As we sit in quite possibly the darkest of nights, we must remember that though we may not see it, very much like the disciples didn't see it, the light will come. Just trust it. We WILL see it again. May we truly live in the light of Christ. Living in a way that He taught us to live, showing radical and unconditional love to each person we meet.