Good Friday

I remember walking somberly into my church as a child on Good Friday, surprised at the dimness of the sanctuary and the absence of candles on the altar. A black cloth hung over the cross and no music played.

cross draped in blackIt was a powerful reminder of Jesus’ death and the hopeless of a world without God.

I had a time several years ago when I believed God had abandoned me and so I allowed a wall to form around my heart. But eventually I found I missed him. I didn’t want a world without God.

So today I reflect – again – on the thorns of my own pride and find my heart longing for the abundance of God’s fruit.

Fortunately he’s promised never to leave me or forsake me. I don’t have to wait until Easter to celebration.

My joy happens moment by moment.


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