Good Friday People

Our first mistake was praying for patience.  Because then Jesus totally gives you circumstances in which patience is required.  So I’d strongly advise against this prayer; you can thank me later.

When people commend our "patience" in this tedious adoption process, David and I grimace. (Controlling the face is a STRUGGLE, but hopefully the expression actually leans more towards a smile than a grimace.  We'll call it a smimace.)  It reminds me of back in my college days when two guy friends mentioned at different times (but on the same day!) that I looked “healthy.”  By the second time, I was all, “Healthy?  Do you mean, ‘like a horse?’”  Not exactly the compliment every collegiate female is dying to hear.  And a desperate, starving soul dragging themselves through the desert probably doesn’t need a pat on the back for their long-suffering.  They need a freaking glass of water.  But that isn’t always within our power to give.

Waiting has become particularly desert-like here of late.  Those of you sharing in a waiting season understand how this feels.  Dry, barren, lifeless.  Nothing on the horizon.  Self preservation has taught us to ignore the blurry hint of anything in the distance because it hurts to get our hopes up.  So we constantly build a wall -around ourselves, our emotions, our desires- and as waiting lengthens it becomes harder to be vulnerable, to let others in.

But regardless the height of our barriers, we are not alone.  The night before Easter, I received this text from my cousin Rachel.  “Went to an Easter Eve vigil tonight.  We spoke of being in the dark waiting for the hope and joy we know is coming in the morning.  I prayed for you as you wait with hope for your joy to come.”  Upon reading this, I cried like an infant.  Obviously.

For many of us, Good Friday and Easter are complex holidays.  The death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus evokes a wide range of emotion.  I, for one, echo author Anne Lamott’s sentiments:

“..I don’t have the right personality for Good Friday, for the crucifixion: I like to skip ahead to the resurrection...In Jesus’ real life, the resurrection came two days later, but in our real lives, it can be weeks, years, and you never know for sure that it will come.  I don’t have the right personality for the human condition, either.  But I believe in the resurrection, in Jesus’, and in ours…<Although> it’s often hard to find similar dramatic evidence of rebirth and hope in our daily lives.”

Good Friday did NOT seem good at all for those experiencing it.  In fact, it was a very bad Friday.  The worst.  Followed by a terrible Saturday.  Then there was Sunday.  Picture this scene from John 20:19, “That Sunday evening the disciples were meeting behind locked doors because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders. Suddenly, Jesus was standing there among them! ‘Peace be with you,’ He said.”  I see a dark room.  Heartbroken friends huddled together, scared out of their minds.  No idea what to do next.  Then, without any notice, Jesus shows up and there is color and life again.  And it’s not just the presence of His physical life, but the renewal of the disciples’ spiritual lives as well.  He is here.  He did what He promised.  Maybe we really can have peace.

To my fellow Good Friday people, He is here.  Even when we are huddled in the dark or dragging ourselves through the desert.  Even when we are building walls to protect ourselves and are too tired to keep hoping.  He is here.  I have to believe that He can bring new life to this dry bone heart of mine, to this seemingly impossible situation.  These kind of miracles are His forte.  And perhaps the wait serves to magnify His works.  Somehow, it must.  Because there is no Easter without a very bad Friday first.  Keep the faith, friends.  As it says at the tail end of John 20, “But these are written so that you may CONTINUE TO BELIEVE that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing in Him you will have life by the power of His name.”

A few Good Friday people who are continuing to believe.