I receive the text-
Are you alright?
I text back yes and share that this week does this to me every year. This holy of weeks that shames me into admittance that so few of my days in a year are spent hurting over the pain my Savior endured. And is there a word deeper than pain?
Admittance that lack of faithfulness brought Him to a cross and even still that cross I so often forget, and what love could be stronger to bear that cross knowing I would still lack faithfulness to even make time to remember?
I attend service of darkness and sing and pray and watch the blowing out of candles and feel tears slide. I wipe my face and for a moment wonder if I can stifle sobs I feel coming. And the pain from earlier in my day mixes with grief and reminder of grace and I feel threatened to lose control. Then with the final Amen I exit quickly and quietly and prayer is answered when I make it to my car before the crushing weight of all this wins and I break.
And there's one that I love that I know isn't even thinking of this day. She has forgotten her gift. Her grace. Mercy given freely to her. It's like a clock inside spinning backwards remembering and I know only by grace. And I wonder - why is she ignoring her grace?
Some small sound awoke me to a morning still dark. I avoided the clock and pulled covers up over my head. But there is no rescue of sleep because here it is - the day the entire fate of the world changed.
Good Friday. Holy.
If I had been there would I have seen my name written in the stripes on his back? RIE carved in letters so deep that only God's love can erase. Not time or shame or sorry but only love.
Would I have seen my face in the angry sneering crowd? My mouth turning Hosana to crucify?
And my answer screams yes and I push myself deeper under the covers. I remember last night I closed my eyes to the day that He prayed for another way but accepted the way of the cross. How could I have rested when He prayed drops of blood? How is it so easy to put one foot in front of the other during this week? Any week?
Then he returned to the disciples and found them asleep. He said to Peter, "Couldn't you watch with me even one hour?"
I rested in sleep because of the crack of whip moving faster than the speed of sound and nails pounding crushing small bones and heart breaking looking through space and time - my face. RIE.
Just make it through today, just make it through today I repeat over and over. And then morning will break again and then morning again just get through today, I pray. And what will I do from noon until three? I will help set table and clean house and prepare for tonight and remember to remember.
Only by grace did I realize early enough in my life, before it was maybe too late? Never for love, but maybe for redemption? And on this holy day I wonder again Why is she ignoring her grace? Help her, Lord, to find her gift of grace again.
And I long to go home and look into His face. I want to touch the scars and fall at His feet and sob unstifled I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry.
I must await my heavenly home but not my seeing His face because He wakes with me and rises with me and rests with me and loves me a cross much. Today I will remember agony and thank often and wait for new morning to break.