Good Friday... a day so filled with grief that the sun's light failed. Christ hung on a cross meant for me...
"... and darkness came over the whole land until three, because the sun's light failed."
The dark, all-consuming. A grief that swallows hope.
And until I lost mom, that grief was always fleeting, transient, something to ponder on days like Good Friday.
But walking out our monumental grief had a way of making the sorrow personal. Painful. Real. Perhaps you know that kind of darkness, where the sun's light fails you.
I saw a recent post by Rachel Lewis: She knows grief. She's walked through the despair and anger and darkness too. She captures the feelings of Good Friday from the depths of that darkness and the heart-rending bereavement felt by God the Father... a Father who understands our grief better than we ever knew.
"While it was the Son who died, it was the Father who looked on, no doubt wishing he could change places with his Son.