This week is hard for us. Of course on Good Friday, we are reminded of what it was like for Jesus. There is a lot of pain this week, near 2,000 years since Jesus was crucified. The pain Jesus suffered was not only physical pain, but social pain, emotional pain. Today we are suffering some of the same. The sting of death is affecting me more so this year than in many others. Tomorrow it will be one year that Grandma Dolores died. The grief of that loss is difficult. Grandma was a very big part of my life and the lives of my children. Of course with her death, the grief I carry is compounded by the death of my son, Trevor. Trevor died 8 years, 4 months and 1 day ago. That will never be easier. No parent should bury a child. Now three days ago, my Aunt Mary died. This grief is compounded by the fact that although my Uncle Larry (her husband) and her kids and grandchildren live less than an hour from me, I cannot be with them, hug them, try to comfort them. So I sit on this Good Friday morning contemplating all that has been lost. I think about how Jesus took my sins, the sins of whosoever believes in him, to the cross. I think of the pain in this life. I grieve for Grandma. I want one more conversation, one more cookie baking, one more shopping trip. I want to pick up my phone and call her. I miss Trevor. I want to hear him sing, play his guitar, play his drums so loud that our floor vibrates. I want to talk about the latest band he likes, hear about whatever new science he has learned about, books he has read. I want to hear Aunt Mary laugh (totally infectious, especially when she was with her sisters) and hear her yell, “Randall!” at my cousin one more time. Sitting in this grief hurts my heart. So I remember that Sunday is coming. I think of the crucifixion and imagine Jesus, arms spread out, saying “This is how much I love you, Dana.” I scarce can take it in. I need to be reminded on this Good Friday more than any other before that Sunday is coming. Theologian Frederick Buechner said, “The worst isn’t the last thing about the world. It’s the next to the last thing. The last thing is the best. It’s the power from on high that comes down into the world, that wells up from the rock-bottom worst of the world like a hidden spring.” In this time of pandemic, of having to be physically distant from those we love, most of us are grieving. Many have lost loved ones. Employees are grieving loss of work. Employers are grieving letting employees go, as businesses cannot run as usual. Essential workers are risking their own health and the health of their families either to try to save lives of those that are falling ill or trying to keep the economy running, food on tables, and needs met. This Lent has been more uncomfortable than any other for me. How about for you? Does “Sunday’s coming!” mean more to you this year? I am ok sitting in this grief a little longer, but I am really longing for Sunday. I just wish I could spend it with my kids and grandson. BUT…that hidden spring is coming for all of us. Jesus’ suffering redeems us all. Our Savior knows all about the grief and the pain each one of us carry. I pray we are able to lay more of that at the foot of the cross this year. I’ll close today with lyrics from Chris Rice’s song, “Come to Jesus” –
Sometimes the way is lonely
And steep and filled with pain
So if your sky is dark and pours the rain, then
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus and live!
danacox31 
Beautifully spoken, Dana. Love you!!