Good Friday

I had these big plans of what my Good Friday would look like.

I knew I had to work, so extra effort would have to be made. I'd get up early, read my Bible, pray, and listen to worship music on the way to work. I'd arrive, happy and grateful for the great sacrifice Jesus made for me. My attitude would be great as I had taken time to contemplate all he had done for me.

Reality: I drove to work with head back on the headrest, eyes half-open, listening to Cake. Now, I'm sitting in the parking lot with my bad attitude and Benadryl hangover, waiting till the last possible minute to walk in. 

Oh yeah, I read my bible before I came. I had to remind myself 27 times to focus. Hey, dumbie, this is important! Stop thinking about what you're going to eat or how many nights you have left at work. Yeah, it didn't go that well.

I totally failed at that contemplative, repentant thing we're supposed to do on Good Friday.

But isn't that when the cross means more?

When I'm down in the muck that is real life, and all I can do is half-heartedly look at the cross for a minute, is that not when the beauty of it is most evident?

I wouldn't need the cross if I could righteously pull myself up by my boot straps. 

I need the cross because I'm not getting it right. I need the blood of Jesus to cover me because otherwise I'm covered in filth. Because I can't muster up the strength to get it right. 

So, maybe my Good Friday service is a lot different than the ones you'll be going to. But his blood is beautiful, needed, and undeserved for me, as much as it is for you.

My Good Friday service is ugly, because my sin is ugly. And I'm full of it. But I also have a perfect sacrifice poured out over me that brings me to the presence of God. If that's not a mystery worth bowing in awe of, there isn't one.

But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

Isaiah 53:5-6

Good Shepherd

Our world is busy. People are always rushing to the next thing, filling up every second of their time with some sort of task...work, exercise, meetings, parties, obligations, sports...the list goes on forever. I know this isn't a new concept. People have been talking about how busy we are for years, and I doubt that I will have anything new to say about it.

Except that I hadn't realized I bought into it. Last year, I bounced from thing to thing, running around trying to get everyone's needs and expectations met. Yeah, I was exhausted, but isn't that what a good, American, Christian 20-something is supposed to be? Exhausted is good, right? It means you're really accomplishing something!

It wasn't until everything started shutting down that I realized what I was doing. My body was done...months of lack of sleep with no end in sight takes its toll eventually. My brain was shutting down...everything I thought was doom and gloom, there was no hope for me under the sun. I was emotionally all over the place and my anxiety was out of control. God allowed me to get to the very edge of myself and even let me hang a foot off the side of the cliff. I'm not mad at him for that. I would have gone barreling over if he hadn't let me see the danger I was in.

I was exhausted. In every sense of the word.

So, I quit. I was gently shown by God that I had reached the end of what I could do in my own strength. I was allowed to see how broken I had become by never stopping to assess how the constant motion was causing stress fractures in my heart and soul. Never mind the brokenness that had been there before I had even started. 

I've been healing. Slowly. More slowly than I would like, which is a lesson in and of itself.

The past week I have slipped a little into my old ways though. Running from one thing to the next, every day is full of things to do and accomplish. But this time, I felt like something was just not right.

It wasn't until today that I realized what the issue is. I've been pouring myself out again. Don't get me wrong, there are times for pouring out. I am not currently in one of those times. I healed just enough to feel like I could get back to my busy-ness, and be fine. But the thing that I forgot about being busy is that there is rarely time to be face to face with God. 

I can pour out of myself and end up right back where I was, because I refuse to value the time with him enough to make it a priority.

He is a good shepherd. There was a time to let me wander off and see exactly what my life could look like without him guiding me. But this time, he only let me wander just enough to remember how far away I got last time, and how scary that was. And he has lovingly guided me back to his side, where I'm safe and cared for perfectly. 

He is full of everything we need...he is full of more than we need. We don't need to seek anything else  by filling our lives with busyness. He is calling us to find in him our satisfaction and our fullness. And he is good to give beyond that.

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies

you anoint my head with oil

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Psalm 23