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And then another…
And then another…
His body beaten, bleeding, and bruised, treated brutally by those who had betrayed Him and didn’t believe Him.
The crown that should’ve been laced in gold and lined with jewels became a crown of thorns that punctured the sides of his head and hung so heavy, his neck was forced to look down.
His soul in deep, deep anguish. Grief stricken over the reality that was before Him, and yet fully prepared, expectant, and ready to assume the assignment that He entered this world to do.
Only the sky would grow this dark if the Giver of Light was slain.
His mother watching, His disciples mourning, the soldier mocking, and every human heart wondering…is it true?
Is He the King?
How is it Good Friday if the Giver of every good gift experienced the most evil, cruel, and undeserved punishment there would ever be?
How is it Good Friday if the Father had to truly give His son into the hands of those who disgraced Him?
How is it Good Friday if the Healer and the Mender and the Shepherd and the Counselor and the way of truth and Life was crucified and now confined to a cave?
The tomb covering His grace, ensuring His stay.
Was this it?
But Jesus knew.
Jesus knew that the cross represented both the death He had to have so that His people could experience the life He knew was possible.
His heart deeply grieved by the weight of such reality but His soul still tender and true, allowing even the man who hung beside Him to be saved and assured of His forever.
Jesus knew that the world could only see this day—the day that laid before them that painted a picture of grim hope and a dismal future—He knew that the Father knew so much more.
For this was part of the plan—the pain inviting the promise and the wait offering space for their wallowing, aching hearts.
Because the wait would soon turn into worship.
But today—it was necessary. In fact, it became the day of the greatest act of love ever given.
And as we lean in…He asks us, “If I can take the cross, will you trust that your pain holds promise, too?”