Today’s Good Friday. It’s the beginning of the three days that changed history.
It was full of ridicule, betrayal, torture, and death. There were tears, jeers and cheers. It was a dark day at first glance. A day that shook literally and figuratively the foundation that cross was anchored in. A mother watched her son die. She wept. She ached. She felt His torment. Every false accusation chipped at her heart and every lash that tore His skin tore her heart.
But she knew.
She knew it wasn’t over, because she knew in her heart of hearts that Sunday was coming.
She knew that she would once again look upon the face of the boy that became a man that left her.
She knew His death was part of a bigger plan.
One she could not fully understand, but her Father, His Father, had equipped her to keep her eyes on Him. Despite the indescribable pain she endured, her eyes were in Him. Despite the hopelessness and despair, her eyes were on Him. The Him that had placed that precious child in her life to love unconditionally and unequivocally. The Him that had handpicked HER to be His momma. The Him that was her strength. That’s where her eyes were. With the realization that her Father, His Father, loved Him more than she ever could in her human limitations, she kept her eyes on Him.
Because that mother, over 2,000 years ago endured the pain of Good Friday, this mother knows where to keep her eyes.
Because that mother watched in horror as her Son died, this mother has the assurance that it isn’t over.
Because that mother heard her Son, with His last breath, utter “Tetelestai” - it is finished - this mother knows that death was defeated.
Because that mother watched her Son be sacrificed, this mother knows she will see her son again.
Because that mother, on that day, held the broken, battered and unrecognizable body of her son, this mother knows Who her son is with.
It’s Good Friday.
But Sunday’s coming.