(This was originally posted on Good Friday 2018.)
The anxiety increases as I think through all the things. So many on which to focus, none of them giving any kind of peace. And a specific feeling of sadness overwhelming as I make sure everything is in order. It starts small, but I can tell it's there.
Several months ago we planned to take a trip to Arizona; the only free time we had was over Good Friday and Easter weekend. It didn't matter to me at the time.
But a lot has changed between then and now. I got all the necessaries ready in my absence; taking a week off my work and commitments. It isn't easy for me to sit still.
But it was more than that.
I was sad that I wouldn't be able to worship in a way I've longed to for years. I desired to finally go to church for a Good Friday service, to remember Jesus' sad day, to be reminded. The past few years my heart really wasn't in it. It was a box to check. It was an event to attend but it really didn't mean the same as it once did. It just kinda hurt. The repetitive work has worked on my heart and I want to worship. But because of my family and our rhythms, attending church Friday night wasn't gonna happen.
So I went for a walk. The Arizona air refreshing after the oven of the afternoon. Pandora music in my ears, knowledge that my family is safe in my absence. A couple minutes to myself.
He meets me.
"How deep the Father's love for us..."
I realize I am attending a Good Friday service right then. My steps matching the beat of the music, bringing immense joy. The adobe palette complementing the blue and pink cotton candy sky. He brings my mind to spiritual things and gratitude wells up.
Thank you Jesus, for life. For breath to breathe this dry air, to feel this beauty and grace on my body as I walk in this neighborhood. Thank you Jesus for the reminder that I have this life only because of you. Your grace.
Jesus, thank you for meeting me here.
Where has Jesus met you?