Good Friday

In 2021, my daughter passed away via miscarriage. One of the many ways I processed that grief was through writing. I would share these writings with my Mom, and we'd process through them together. These same writings have been an anchor as I've processed the loss of my Mom. I thought I'd share one with you as Easter approaches.

If you're sitting in the agony of Friday or the silence of Saturday, please remember that Sunday is coming. Hang tight.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Good Friday. 

Holy Week used to be, and in many ways is still, my favorite week of the year. 

I feel like this year, Good Friday hits differently in so many different ways. 

God, a parent, lost a child on a Friday…. and so did I. 

But I would not have deemed that Friday good, and wouldn’t dare want the world to refer to it as such. 

I lost Ember involuntarily. 

I wouldn’t have chosen that. 

I wouldn’t have willingly given her up for some greater good. 

Yet…. God did. 

I feel like I relate to both the Father and the Son today. 

I relate to the agony of the Father. 

On most days, my grief and heartache make me want to turn the sky black. 

It may not cause earthquakes in the land, but it does cause earthquakes in my heart and soul. 

The pain makes me want to respond in ways that resemble lightning and thunder. 

If I had the power… I’m sure my grief would also shake the earth. 

God understands grief… He understands child loss. 

I relate to the abandonment felt by the Son. 

“My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” 

I feel that has been my lament every time I’ve seen a new pregnancy announcement or baby bump. 

I feel that has been my cry as I’ve grieved who I was before I suffered abuse. 

I feel that’s what my heart is communicating as it aches when I watch Mom’s parent their children. 

I feel that the tears I’ve cried as the lies my abuser spewed have mocked me, like the Pharisees mocked Jesus from the foot of the cross, have written in the sand…. 

…. God, why did you leave me….? 

Nothing about how Friday felt looks like it should be labeled good. 

However, what came from Friday saved my life. 

The gift that was born from agony on Friday has sustained my soul. 

It’s the anchor that sustains me in my suffering. 

The tragedy of Friday forced a silence on Saturday that pushed believers to hope against all hope, and to trust in the face of death. 

They had to find hope in a tomb… and believe that Sunday was coming. 

Good Friday is a reminder that even the most horrible of situations come with a promise. 

It’s a reminder that before there can be resurrection, there has to be death. 

It’s a reminder that God grieves with us. 

His heart breaks at the things that break us. 

It’s a reminder that love prevails in darkness. 

He could’ve chosen something different. 

God could’ve chosen not to lose His son. 

Jesus could’ve chosen to get off the cross. 

But He stayed, so that 2,000+ years later, not only would I have access to salvation… 

But I have hope that tells me I’ll see my daughter again… 

Because God the Father allowed his heart to break and sacrifice His son, this Mama’s heart can find healing, and can trust that her daughter is safe and whole… 

Because of the horridness of Good Friday, I can look at the tragedy of my own Friday and know that one day… although what happened didn’t feel good…. He will work it together for my good. 

He will make my Friday good. 

And as I sit in the mourning of Friday, and the silence of Saturday, I will remind my heart that Sunday is coming. 

Sunday HAS to come. 

That’s the promise He gave them before Friday ever happened …. He promised them that Sunday was coming. 

Sunday is coming for me too. 

So I will wait at the foot of the cross, I won’t mourn as those without hope… and I will wait for Sunday.