Good Friday.
The skies went dark.
The earth trembled.
And hope – hope seemed buried with the man they thought would save them.
To Jesus’ friends, family, and followers, that Friday wasn’t good.
It was unbearable.
Unthinkable.
Unredeemable.
But then came Sunday.
And the tomb was empty.
And the darkness gave way to dawn.
And what once seemed lost forever was raised to life again.
And suddenly – mysteriously, mercifully – Friday could be called good.
Not because the pain disappeared,
But because the resurrection reframed it.
And here’s the hope that keeps us:
If that day – so full of grief, injustice, and death – can be called “Good Friday”…
Then maybe one day,
By the same power that rolled away the stone,
We will look back on all our Fridays –
Our losses, our sufferings, our sorrows –
And say, with tear-streaked joy and trembling awe:
“It was good… not because it didn’t hurt… but because He redeemed it.”
Good Friday doesn’t pretend the pain is good –
It proclaims that God is better!
