GOOD FRIDAY (Posted by request)

I wrote this last week on Good Friday. It was suggested I post it here.

Since yesterday I've been telling Jesus how much I appreciate what He had to endure at the hands of man and on the cross to pay for my sin and to redeem me from Hell. My mind cannot really wrap around how expansive, deep, and complete Christ's work is. I just know that the blood He shed was perfect and entire, obtaining salvation and forgiveness for all of us.

It may sound illogical but I really dislike Good Friday. Not because I don't want to celebrate Jesus' overcoming sin, Hell, and death - there is no greater thing to celebrate in this world or the next! - but because of the pain involved. It hurts me in a place I cannot even describe. Every one of those horrible blows Jesus took - every spit in his face, every hair of his beard pulled out, every lash that ripped open His back - rightfully belong to me. Knowing He took all that, plus the weight of every sin of every person of all generations past, present, and future, as He hung mutilated on that cross is more than I can bear at times. Keeping that reality at a safe distance intellectually is how I deal with it most of the time. But not on Good Friday.

This is the day when I force myself to look at the reality of how my Jesus suffered because of me. Because of MY sin. I have to own it, to let it fully sink in and break the Safe Distance Barrier so it transfers from my brain to my heart - to my very soul. After the nausea and heartsickness subsides, and pained prayers have stopped flowing, I realize that it was FOR my very soul that Jesus did what He did. It's personal. It's not a "for the masses" thing - even though it was. It's a very personal, intensely intimate, thing.

I love Him so much, and it hurts me beyond measure to know what He suffered. After all these years, I still can't comprehend that kind of love.