Good Friday

“But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.”—Isaiah 53:5 Friday Heading into service tonight, I felt anything but good. Our temp pole was delayed—may need to be moved, may swing and catch the whole place on fire, may get pulled by a too-tall truck. I also took the pool cover off and discovered the liner was falling down and there’s an area of rust completely rotted through a side panel. Dollar signs danced through my head. Thoughts of “what have I done” coupled with “I’m such an idiot. This is the biggest mistake of my life.” I felt hopeless, lost, like a failure. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the goal. As debt free as possible was the goal. A mama at home. An at home oasis. All in the plan. But building again, renovating or just filling the dang pool in with dirt was not in the plan. So as I headed in to church, my posture was not where it should have been on Good Friday. But then, a glorious thing happened. As the music began to play, Cadence requested to be held. I picked up her 45 pound self and slung her on my hip. Then Gabe nuzzled in on my other side. Both of them singing hymns to Jesus. As I stood there singing with them, the reminder of his promise began to pour into me. For years, a decade at least, I have wanted nothing but to be mom. I have wanted nothing but to be present. I have wanted to be the nurturer, the caregiver, the comforter. I have wanted closeness. And here I was, on a Friday night, on a holiday weekend, standing in church, with literally no space between me and my children. And my heart softened. The promise was that I would have this. It wasn’t for a pool or a house or a vacation this summer. It was for this, for this moment right now. It was for the ability to be off on the holiday weekend to spend it fully with my children as we share in the goodness of God and all that Jesus did for us. The promise was my time made available, made open for these two. As we clustered there, I began to turn to mush. Whatever happens with the house, with the pool is not for me to fret over. I thought about how consumed I had been with the latest discoveries and how they had stolen my attention for conversations, for experiences, for prepping their little hearts for service. I then diverted to God. Thank him that he is a good parent. Thank him that he’s not so consumed with the intricacies of this life that he can’t give his undivided attention to our ramblings, our prayers, our needs. Thank him that he keeps promises. And thank him for sending Jesus so that we may know him, we may be saved and that one day we will live with him. It took me sometime to get there this evening when I should have had a spirit of worship throughout the day, the week… but I got there and I needed the reminder I found along the way.