AM I a stone, and not a sheep,
That I can stand, O Christ, beneath thy cross,
To number drop by drop Thy Blood’s slow loss,
And yet not weep?
Not so those women loved
Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;
Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;
Not so the thief was moved;
Not so the Sun and Moon
Which hid their faces in a starless sky,
A horror of great darkness at broad noon–
I, only I.
Yet give not o’er,
But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;
Greater than Moses, turn and look once more
And smite a rock.
Today’s dark, and not just figuratively. I’m not working today, so the kids and I have had some quiet time, reading, preparing for Sunday, and, in some inexplicable way…listening. Good Friday has always given me that sense of anticipation, of a hushed breath before the storm.
Today we mark the death of Christ, fulfilling Old Testament prophecy and covenant and his payment of the great price of our sin. Today we are quiet, in grief for the great wrong done for our sake.
And so I breathe, and grieve, and grasp my children, and wait.
A blessed Good Friday to you and yours.