Imperfect Progress Titles

It’s a strange sensation, cat curled on my lap watching the livestream of Mosaic’s Good Friday Service and croaking the best I can as I butcher these beautiful songs. And I have this out-of-body experience. Of all things, I think about where Jasmine came from. Three years ago, about this same time, when, on the anniversary of mom’s death, my friend died, and I felt so alone. I wondered if the world would notice should I disappear. 

For reasons I still don’t fully understand, this pit of despair led me to foster two kittens “for a few weeks till we all go back to work.” And somehow this card carrying “pet hater” lost her heart to the troublemaking ball of fur that is Princess Jasmine. There is no way I could have known then that she would curl up with me all day and night this week, looking at me with concern every time I can’t stop coughing.

I never could have understood then how much Princess Jasmine would love me… or how much I would love her. I’ll do anything at all in my power to make her happy. And it delights me so much to see her delight. (I’ve learned more about prayer from that one revelation than years of books and seminars could ever teach. But that is a blog for another day.)

I’m here coughing my way through songs about the power of Jesus’ blood, and I am overwhelmed by the mental picture of three years ago. I’d just broken up with the only man I’ve ever kissed. Lockdown made me feel so isolated and alone. And then Topher dies on the three-year anniversary of mom’s death, and I just don’t know if anything will ever make sense again.

And six days later, desperate for connection, I agreed to foster this little ball of love that I now cannot imagine my life without.

In some kind of twisted way, this had me thinking about Good Friday and how it really sucked. And none of the people there really understood what was happening.

I mean, Judas clearly didn’t think Jesus would let them kill him! He thought turning Jesus over would force His hand and jump start the revolution (or at least that’s my read on his story). He never overcomes his disappointment; choosing to end it all in the potter’s field.

Then there is Peter, who just knew he would be by Jesus till the end. He drew his sword and took a whack at those coming to take Jesus. But then Jesus told him to put it away, healed the man, and went with the soldiers. He just went without a fight. And He died without a miracle. Peter felt lost, confused, hurt, overwhelmed, and afraid. Some combination of that leads to him denying the very man he swore he’d die to protect!

Lazarus must be confused. I mean, this man called him by name back from death! How could He die? Mary is inconsolable (she’s the empath), and Martha can’t figure it out (with all her logic and reasoning). He said He was the ‘Resurrection and the Life’ but now He’s dead?

We all give Thomas a bad rap, but none of the disciples believed Jesus was coming back. They all went to bed that night, broken and confused. Everything hurt. And nothing made sense.

We all go through seasons that suck. This time last year was hard. I felt unmoored and without community. Everything around me, and inside me, was falling apart. And it seemed no one noticed or cared. The only flickers of light came from this little group I had visited on a few Monday nights.

But here we are a year later, and my life has flipped on its head. I found a church home where I am thriving, in ways I didn’t even know to ask God for a year ago. I met amazing people like Maria, Kaitlyn, Nicole, Shannon… and so many others that I shouldn’t have named any because there are just so many! I’ve written a book I will publish in October! I started a YouTube channel and found a community of fellow writers. I have writing friends, single friends, married friends, and soon-to-be-married friends… and my heart is just so full!

But none of that could have come without the darkness. Easter Sunday doesn’t happen without Good Friday. Princess Jasmine is only here because of the difficulties I lived through in 2020. And your light won’t come without some darkness. I had dug in my heels and refused to move, confident that I knew the plan God had for my life. So, He let some things get broken until I was willing to let go.

We all have pain, suffering, and brokenness. What matters is what we do with it. Are we going to be Judas, giving up before sunrise? Will we be Peter, running away to what’s familiar (fishing) and making Jesus come looking for us? Perhaps we are Mary, crying in the garden and so busy looking for what we think we lost we don’t see our miracle in front of us? (Ouch, that’s me way too often.)

Instead, we can hear the call of Hebrews. We can hear the many witnesses in scripture, history, the lives of others, and our own experiences remind us that the darkness is not the end. God can, and does, work all things for good.

Good Friday was dark, confusing, and hopeless. We don’t call it “Good Friday” because they put on a great show. Easter Sunday is coming, and we have much more than some bunny hiding colorful, chocolate-filled eggs to celebrate!