Did I just use "annoying" and "inspirational" in the same line?
Anyway, in thinking about Good Friday, I went back to what I wrote last year. My thoughts have not changed. I cannot improve or alter what has already been written.
He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.
And Good Friday is still one of my favorite days of the year.
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(originally written Friday, April 22, 2011)
Good, Good Friday
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation
and uphold me with a willing spirit.
Psalm 51:12
I woke up in the wee hours of the morning thinking about my salvation, the bible my grandma gave me, and a cup of coffee. Of course, when I walked into the kitchen and realized it was, in fact, only 2:00 a.m., I decided maybe that cup of coffee should wait. Seeing as how there's no school tomorrow and the only alarm set belongs to my hard working man of a husband, I fully intend on sleeping in. I'll enjoy that coffee then.
I sit here, though, with a bible my grandma gave me. My mom's handwriting on the inside cover says 12-25-80. It does indeed show its age. My name embossed in gold on the front is just about worn off, threads can be seen sticking out on the spine, and the overall feel to it is just plain flimsy. There's post-it notes sticking out, cards about missionaries inside, and a random drawing the middle one made. Me and my bibles are a funny thing. I know I'm blessed to have so many; I don't take that for granted. Each one is special and each one hard to part with; in fact, I think I've only parted with one in my whole life and that was for my brother some time ago. Letting go of that bible was like letting go of me. It's personal. You want to know something about me, look in my bible.
(And if you don't like writing in a bible, then I'm afraid you might not like me. I write, highlight, underline, put squiggly marks... anything to help me remember something I know I need to remember. I use to think this was wrong until I saw my grandma do it. And we all know if Grandma did it, then it must be all right).
Anyway, my current bible is held together with duct tape. Tacky? Maybe. But replacing my Amplified would be like replacing my right arm. I'm just not ready to make that step.
And so I sit here thinking about bibles and my grandma and a time many years ago. The year of 1980 was a big one for me. I was ten (double digits, you know) and one Sunday night I followed my family to an altar in church. I remember crying because everyone else was crying and I remember repeating the words of a salvation prayer.
Yes, I believe Jesus died for my sins.
Yes, I know, in fact, I am a sinner.
Yes, I believe His Blood was shed for me.
Yes, I accept His salvation.
I didn't fully understand then what a beginning that would be. I certainly did not live a squeaky clean life. My teenage years are a blur. My family did not have a stellar church attendance record. I only went to church camp once and never had any desire to go back. There weren't many things in my life that were consistent because I tended to make everything complicated (and this has nothing to do with my parents, Dr. Psychologist), but there were three things that were always there:
My grandma.
My bible.
My salvation.
(Do you notice the common theme that always seems to run through my ramblings? My grandma is always there. Living on. Living forever. Living through me. I sure hope her reward is great).
My twenties came and I found myself in basic training crying out to the Lord once again. He was there. My thirties came and I found myself deep in a marriage with three little kids and I cried out to the Lord. He was there. Now just at the beginning of my fourth decade on this earth, I cry out to the Lord on any given day (teenagers, you know). He is there. Please don't take this wrong when I say Good Friday is probably my most favorite day out of the whole year. I know it's a somber day that we mark (as Christians) in that Jesus was so cruelly treated and beaten and crucified.
But if it were not for Good Friday, I would be lost. We all would be.
If it were not for Good Friday, there would be no Easter Sunday.
If it were not for Easter Sunday, we would have no hope.
I believe Jesus Christ was born of a virgin,
Was crucified on a cross for forgiveness of sins,
Resurrected on the third day,
And is indeed coming again.
My bible says it. It's highlighted, underlined, and surrounded by squiggly lines.
My grandma said it. I'm going to meet her in the clouds one day.
And that's all I need to know.
Have a good, Good Friday.
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