No. 78: Good Things on Good Friday

Plus, a lengthy photo diary from a (failed) trip to Round Top

The world feels off-kilter with an Easter in March. I’ve heard flutterings about the early Holiday— variations of “this weekend,” “still cant believe it” and “that snuck up on us” sprinkled throughout conversations all around. When I was little, Holy Week used to feel like a birthday count down. Six days til’ jellybeans and gold coins! Four more sleeps til’ fresh white tights, a new hat and ruining both of them playing with friends! As I grew older, Holy Week felt like wading through a dense, unrelenting storm of guilt. Time moved slowly. Heavily. Each day was a reminder of how lost and unworthy I was of Christ’s love and sacrifice.

Now, I find the days leading up to Easter to be a time of an almost overwhelming presence and gratitude. It’s a combination things, I’m sure. I’m a mother and thinking deeply about Jesus being a one and only son upends me at times. I’m 34 years old and thinking of how He was younger than me hanging on that cross is a new perspective I wasn’t prepared to be shaken by. I’ve walked with the Lord for a lifetime, but I’ve walked in true relationship with him for over a decade and each year, I understand more just how desperate I am for a Savior. That I truly could never have earned this love. A younger, more proud version of myself lived like that wasn’t the case.

The world we live in offers us a steady stream of news that ranges from disappointing to devastating. The news isn’t untrue, but it only lives in the shadow of the light of the ultimate Truth: true love came down so that we may have eternal, everlasting hope. This elementary reminder feels profound to me even now and carries me on days where I’m fumbling for a light switch in the dark.

There are good and beautiful things all around us, but nothing more beautiful than this. Happy Good Friday, friends.