Good Friday

They sat in silence. Rare for this group of rowdies. I could hear them breathing as I read, shifting in their bed covers, but nothing else. Their ears? They were working. I could feel them working. Peeled to my every word. Also rare for this bunch.

The story of Jesus’ death danced off the pages in piercing words, like beautiful sad music. We, all of us, were hearing it as if for the first time.

“‘If you were really the son of God, you could just climb down off that cross!’ they said. And of course they were right. Jesus could have just climbed down. Actually, he could have just said a word and made it stop. Like when he healed that little girl. And stilled the storm. And fed 5,000 people.

But Jesus stayed.

You see, they didn’t understand. It wasn’t the nails that kept Jesus there. It was love.”   (from The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones)

It was love.

And that love drew tears from the six year old. It stunned into pensive silence the twelve year old. It rendered the nine year old speechless for once in his life. It begged the question “Why?!” from the three year old. And it brought forth life changing questions from them all.

“Then Jesus shouted in a loud voice, ‘It is finished!’

And it was. He had done it. Jesus had rescued the whole world.”

Jesus rescued us. Thank you, Abba.

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