Well, not so good for someone. Especially so for the rest of us. This day in history, God absorbed all the hatred, shame, pain, violence, discrimination, sin, and division into himself. Jesus became the great black hole out of which could escape nothing other than love, redemption, hope, and all things new.
As we lean, by faith, into this cosmic narrative, what once was dark can become light again. What once promised fear and undoing, now has potential to unlock a billion answered prayers.
This poem isn’t specifically a Good Friday poem. It is however, in the context of night and sleep, a promise therefrom.
nighttime songs our fears erase
a story lived, now story told
we, early young, now later, old
see stranger things than daytime held
but not without our sorrows quelled
we fluff and tuck and yawn and brush
pray God remove all sinning blush
the air now cool in silver glow
what dreams may come we do not know
divested now of time and chance
we bid adieu and leave the dance
till thricely woven round with grace
the nighttime songs our fears erase
(c)Robert Alan Rife, 2013