Good Friday

Meditating about what this weekend really means. Not just on the surface—church services, songs and dinners—but the actual weight of it all.

Good Friday used to mean a day off and not much more to me. But lately with God’s help, I start to feel the heaviness, darkness and silence. Jesus died. And not just a quick, peaceful passing. He was beaten, mocked, humiliated… and then nailed to a cross. That’s what it took!

“He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities… and by His stripes we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5)

And the part that hits me hardest?
He chose it. He didn’t get cornered or overpowered. He wasn’t tricked. He walked into it—for me. He is passionate in his love for us, how can we not serve Him wholeheartedly? It’s overwhelming!

“No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself.” (John 10:18)

I know my sin. I know the thoughts I have, the ways I fail, the stuff I hide. And Jesus saw all of it… and still said, “I’ll go.” That’s not religion. That’s love. Deep, bloody, sacrificial love.

“But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

And then Easter!

It’s not just a happy ending. It’s a new beginning. Jesus didn’t just come back to life so we could just sing. He came back to pull us out of the grave too. Not just someday—now! Whatever we are struggling with, whatever sin, pain, addiction!

“Even when we were dead in trespasses, [God] made us alive together with Christ.” (Ephesians 2:5)

There were times I was walking around breathing, but not really alive. I was numb, angry, stuck.  Easter is God saying, “You don’t have to stay in that tomb. I already broke it open.”

“Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen!” (Luke 24:5–6)

Good Friday shows us the incredible cost. Easter shows us how incredibly it worked.

This weekend isn’t about being religious or sentimental. It’s about remembering what He did, and deciding what I’m going to do with it.
I need to let some things die today. Let Him raise something new on Sunday!

My prayer this Good Friday,

Jesus,
You didn’t just tell me You love me—You showed it, with nails in Your hands and thorns on Your head.
I take it lightly far too often. I forget the weight of the cross.
Help me live like someone You died for. Help me rise up like someone You raised.
Let whatever’s dead in me be buried with You never to rise again… and breathe in me the things that are good.
Thank You for loving me more than I can ever understand. Thank You for going all the way.
In the matchless, powerful name of Jesus,
Amen.