Friday, March 29, 2013

Good Friday {photos from the phone}

Last night I cried out in anguish for my husband.  I could feel myself physically aching for his presence; his familiarity.  After practically begging him to come home I wept in the knowing that his desires and his choices are different.  

This morning I woke up and wept for my Savior.  
In groans that I haven't heard come from my spirit before I thought about this King, my God being crucified on this day.  But in the knowing that even before doing it, 
He knew.  

I can picture the last supper.  It reminds me of a dinner that might be common here.  Friends, laughter, food. And yet I let myself go to the somber place of Jesus' heart.  A place that drove Him to rise from the dinner table, kneel to the floor and begin washing the feet of the disciples, his friends.  
He served them, even then, even before his death.

My heart is raw today.  Torn open and visibly fleshy.  
I am broken, knowing that I am pardoned.  Knowing that my God sweat blood for me and for Himself before his coming torture in a garden of beauty and somehow of ashes.  Later his body was opened up, literally, in ways that were so deep and so vulgar-for the world to see.  As blood poured from his gaping wounds, a robe of mockery was placed around him.  I assume his simple movements from wretching pain and natural responses caused the robe to penetrate deeper into his wounds causing anguish that goes beyond comprehension.  
And then the crown.  That crown of beautiful, humiliating, devastating glory.  

I am pained at the knowing.  
Knowing that on this day that represents my Savior's death, He is still pursuing.
Jesus shattered the ordinary on this day.  He re-wrote the story.  He stood with ultimate courage and subliminal sacrifice in order to maintain humanity-or free it rather.  
He came undone for me.  For Daniel.  For our family.  
And for you.  

And I am heartbroken that on this Easter my family will be separated by human actions and choices.  I am tortured at the knowing that somehow, our lives have been interrupted by a spiritual force that has a grip that Jesus died to release.  
He died so that we could be free from it.  
The guilt.  Shame.  Anxiety.  Fear.  Hopelessness.  Loneliness.  

Our God; the redeemer.  
My hope lies in that empty tomb.  In the aliveness of Jesus.  
And today I am ripped to shreds spiritually because He is alive.  
"It is finished."
Thank you Jesus.

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