Why in the world would this day be called “Good”?
A perfect Man just took the sin from my hand.
He suffered the weight of death upon the splintering wood - I should
be facing the wrath of my sin & transgression…
confession of a lesson I still don’t comprehend.
this some-ONE, somehow, someway — just took my place of disgrace
now I see no trace of blunders, mistakes —
I only see wonders — of grace.
He bleeds, redeems, retrieves —
my heart from loneliness, brokenness, & shame.
covering stains — His Spirit proclaims
a sound similar to a broken Lamb facing the slaughter.
Is this how He rescues His sons & daughters?
His gracious adoration stirs new ingredients of contemplation,
I see a new nation - who would call this Friday - “Good”.
Oh. I see.
His love & suffering
was not in vain or useless - but rather redeeming.
It is GOOD, because this dark skied Friday
covered by canopy of lament
I can’t help but repent —
when I look into eyes of pure affection, compassion — the reflection
of His Father’s adoration of my feeble complexion
no longer able to mask with make-up and acting
my knees now trembling
soon touching —
dirt mixed with sweat, water, & blood that is not my own.
A gentle voice from a holy throne
grabs my attention. I stop. I listen.
you. are. forgiven.
I think I just discovered and maybe uncovered
the one of many reasons
why this season I can call Friday