That’s what I used to think. The day Christ was crucified. The day he was nailed to a cross and mocked, ridiculed and tortured. The day the most wonderful person to ever live died. Good? C’mon.
But that was before. Now I live in the “after.” The time after I realized that Christ died for ME. And trust me, I’ve heaped plenty of sin on his shoulders to weigh him down on that cross. And he took it. Not because I asked him to–I didn’t even know I needed him to save me. He did it because he loves me. HE LOVES ME. Enough to die for me when I’m so wrapped up in my own petty world that I barely know he exists.
God . . . Christ . . the Holy Spirit loves me. I know this now. Trust me, Good Friday becomes the best day of the year when you know this. It isn’t a good day, it’s the best day. Except for Sunday, when he rose and made himself known.
I may never publish my novel. I may never accomplish my goals and dreams. But how can I ever be dissatisfied when the best thing that can EVER happen to me already has? Today we mourn. On Sunday the light of the world will rise again. Praise God, He is Risen. He is Risen indeed.
Happy Easter. Thank you for walking with me in my journey. Thank you for welcoming me to come along on yours.