Good Friday

I did not sit down to write yesterday, but I am back today. Today is Good Friday, and Easter has always been my favorite holiday. It is also a heavy holiday. It reminds me that even Jesus was afraid, and that He carried the cross heavy on His back and shoulders all the way to His own death. The gloomy, cloudy weather today feels fitting for that heaviness.

There is the calling to slow down during Holy Week and pay attention. It feels like an invitation to be more still, more present, and more aware of what this week is really about. Not just the busyness that sometimes comes with preparing for a holiday, but the deeper meaning underneath it all. The suffering. The sacrifice. The mercy. The love. (Not the Easter Bunny, Egg Hunts and Candy.)

Something I finally acknowledged about myself this week is that I do not really rest. I have known it for a long time, but I treated it like it was normal, and this week I had a moment of “aha” about it. I am always doing something, even when I am sitting on the couch to relax. It is active rest. I am jotting down a to-do list, letting a thousand thoughts run through my mind, playing with Henry, or sometimes even scrolling. I do keep limits on how much time I spend on social media each day, including work, but I still find it hard to slow down and truly rest. I know some of you are lying around too, but you are reading a book on your phone, playing a game, or listening to an audiobook, and I see you.

This Holy Week has been a gentle reminder that maybe rest is not just about doing less. Maybe it is about remembering more. Remembering what this season is really for. Remembering what it cost. Remembering that I do not have to carry everything myself. Remembering that I am not saved by effort, performance, or perfection, but by Him alone.

I did not do anything over the top this week, but I did keep my schedule mostly unrushed. I only had one day where I packed everything in, and even that day flowed smoothly and without hurry. I listened to praise and worship music, read my Bible daily, prayed, and nourished my body. It was simple, but it was good. This is exactly what a holy week should feel like and dare I say, all of our weeks.

At the center of all of it is this truth: I am saved because of His grace and mercy.

Mercy is not getting what we deserve.
Grace is getting what we do not deserve.

And maybe that is what Good Friday asks of us. Not to rush past the sadness, not to skip over the weight of it, but to sit with it long enough to remember how great the gift is. The cross was heavy. The day was dark. But love was still at work.

Maybe this is my reminder today to stop trying to hold everything together for a moment and simply receive what has already been given.