A Good Friday

This Good Friday brought to you by Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

It seems like too beautiful of a day to think about a tortuous death. It makes me think about a day a few years ago. It was one of the most beautiful days we'd had so far in 2017. It was also the day we found out that one of my husband's best friends had terminal cancer. I couldn't get my head wrapped around a day that could be so beautiful when this good man's life was falling apart. It felt like life was profaning itself. 

I thought the same thing when my husband's grandmother died unexpectedly a few years ago. We were on vacation at the beach when we heard. We sat on the balcony and the waves kept crashing, never skipping a beat, and I wondered aloud if the ocean did not know that one of the sweetest, strongest women we knew had just lost her life. 

I thought the same thing when one of my (and everyone else's) good friends was diagnosed with cancer only to come home to a massive stroke. I walked into his hospital room and lost any ability to help anyone else when I saw the way his eyes lit up like he wanted to say so much, but no longer had the ability to speak. I kissed him on the head and looked outside the window to a cloudless sky and thought the weather must be very cruel to behave this way on such a day. This was my friend. At the time, I didn't  make many friends. Acquaintances, easy, but real friends, not always. He was an unlikely one, grant it, but he wouldn't be deterred. I was sick for a while when we moved into town, but  also a little secretive about it. He didn't accept my hiding. He'd look me straight in the face and say "what's wrong?"  And "what do you need?" The weather had to know that. Had to have seen it. Then could've known why my heart needed a rain cloud in the sky on that day in the hospital. 

I could think about the beautiful walk I had the morning my friends and neighbors woke up to a tragedy I still cannot describe or even begin to write about. 

I could think about the beautiful November in high school that my favorite uncle lived on life support and my brothers, sisters, cousins and I lived in the fresh air outside the hospital until he was gone. 

I could think about the lovely summer sunsets that would sometimes make a 12 year old cry as she wondered if she could sleep for her thoughts tonight and wondered what she had ever done to God to deserve these new scars then feel even worse when she worried about the threat of hell for even forming such questions. 

Who has lived more than a day and couldn't write about such tragedies in the midst of such beauty. Even birth itself speaks to it. And I have been so blessed and yet I think....and I wonder about the sense of it all...

Then I think about the years we got to spend with my husband's right hand man that recently lost his battle with cancer. Would we have rather never known him than to know this pain? No, we would not. We will live forever with this extra love and these fond memories in our hearts because of him. We will be better people. We will love our other friends more. Our capacity to love will be bigger and stronger and deeper than it ever was. 

I think about my Jimmy Dove and yes I'd selfishly have him back, but I know that would be cruel. I'm glad he's whole. I'm glad he was here to teach me to let people in easier. And I'm so very happy to have found a new soul mate in his wife that I would've probably never found before. 

I think about my uncle Larry and how his good natured wit shows up in my brothers and sisters and I think, thank God we can all laugh like this. Thank God we were raised with a Larry. 

I think about that 12 year old girl and I still ache for her sometimes. But she never asks God what she ever did to Him to deserve what she got. Instead I look at how far she has come and how she may not be great or a success in anyone's eyes, but she has peace with herself and with her God that gives her all that she needs to live among the tragedy and the beauty, with the ability to realize the gift life really is- all of it. 

All of it- every single piece of it points to Good Friday. The most heinous thing in history- A people brutally beating and killing their creator, their king, their teacher, their friend. This very act of indescribable tragedy, which in a seemingly sick twist of love , pleased God,  is exactly what made him our beautiful savior. Creators are wonderful; kings can be tricky; teachers are helpful; friends are nice. But Saviors? The prior do not compare to that title. The most terrible tragedy procuring for us such a beautiful beautiful thing, one that we were created for- peace with God for eternity. 

To me, it's like when I run in the mornings before dawn (or when I used to I should say, before the tragedy of my left knee ). Something happens right before the sun rises. There's a coolness that falls. Maybe it's the dew. I don't know. I've just noticed it over the past year. It's such a magical thing. All of the sudden the air around you changes. It's refreshing.  And moments later the sun shows up in its scorching brilliance. It's ineffable. I think about a God that does that. I would've never thought to do that, but I'm so glad He did. When I get to heaven, which I am satisfied will look nothing like I've been taught, if I get perfect knowledge and care at all to see what He did with all of that tragedy we suffered here, I'm sure I'll say those exact same words. I would've never thought to do that, but I'm so glad He did.