Good Friday

Why do they call it Good Friday Mommy?  It wasn't very good for Jesus.

Why do they call it good. . .

How can betrayal ever be good?

How can late night mock trials and a sentence of death be good?

Angry mob shouts, "Crucify Him" with hate and anger dripping from their lips.

What about the cat of nine tails that shredded the skin of the Savior, or the crown of thorns pressed deep into His tender head?

What about the heavy wooden beam carried through dusty streets on blood drenched shoulders?

Was it good when they held His hand to the cross and hammered in a nail of iron, tearing the muscles, ripping the nerves?

Was it good when they stood the cross upright and sunk it deep into the earth, jerking joints out of place, hanging Him high exposed for all to see?

What goodness comes from mocking Pharisees spitting upon, murdering the Son of God in their hearts and in His flesh?

Cursing thief, gambling soldiers, weeping mother, bewildered disciples.

Was goodness found as He pushed up hard on trembling legs just to gasp a breath of air?

Or in the darkness and earthquakes, even the earth and sky mourning their Maker?

Surely all goodness is lost as perfection takes on the sin of the world.  The Son of God becoming sin for us.

And in the bleakest moment of eternity, the Father and Son . . . parted.


How can we call anything about this day good?

Because sometimes, my child, the best gifts aren't wrapped in the prettiest paper.

Only through the suffering can the gift be given, the gift of life, life through death.

The cross had to be endured to fulfill the will of the Father, to complete the Scriptures, to make the sacrifice.

And we know that is not the end of the story. . . for He Is Risen! 

So it is good that we do not have to face death and hell, that was already done for us, by a 'wonderful, merciful Savior.'

It is good that He died so that we may live.  It is good that the Father reconciled us to Himself through the sacrifice of the Son. 

It is a Good Friday.