04/03/2026
Good Friday is hard to sit with.
Because there was nothing “good” about the pain.
Nothing light about the betrayal.
The mocking.
The beating.
The crown of thorns.
The nails.
The cross.
It was brutal.
It was humiliating.
It was heartbreak in its rawest form.
And yet…
we call it good.
Not because what they did to Jesus was good.
But because of what Jesus did for us through it.
Good Friday is the reminder that Jesus did not just talk about love.
He proved it.
He carried the cross.
He took the shame.
He bore the weight.
He stayed.
He suffered.
He gave His life.
For sinners.
For the broken.
For the undeserving.
For people who could never repay Him.
That is what makes this day so heavy.
He was innocent.
Completely innocent.
And still He was condemned.
He had the power to stop it.
The power to call down angels.
The power to walk away.
But He stayed.
That part will always wreck me.
Because He was not held there by nails alone.
He was held there by love.
By mercy.
By obedience.
By a plan that was always bigger than the moment.
The cross looked like defeat.
It looked like darkness won.
Like evil had the final word.
Like hope had been buried.
But heaven was doing its deepest work in the darkest hour.
That is the mystery of Good Friday.
What looked like the end
was the beginning of redemption.
What looked like loss
was love pouring itself out.
What looked like death winning
was actually Jesus crushing the weight of sin once and for all.
So yes,
Good Friday is painful.
It should be.
But it is also holy.
Because on that cross,
Jesus took what I deserved
and gave me what I never could have earned.
And if that is not love,
I do not know what is.
