Good Friday: Sitting in the Weight of It

Today is Good Friday… and if I’m being honest, it doesn’t feel “good.”

I understand why it’s called that.

I understand what it represents.

And I know how the story ends that Jesus resurrected.

But I don’t want to rush past what happened to get to Sunday.

Because when I really stop and think about it…it breaks my heart.

Jesus came to this earth as the Son of God fully human, fully divine and He was beaten, mocked, tortured, and ultimately crucified. That wasn’t a quick or peaceful death. It was brutal. It was slow. It was suffocating.

And He endured all of that, willingly.

For us.

And that’s the part that sits heavy with me.

Because we’re still the same.

We still fall short.

We still repeat the same mistakes.

We still sin, ask for forgiveness, and then find ourselves right back in the same place again.

It’s frustrating even as a parent, I think about how hard it is when kids don’t listen or don’t change. You want better for them. You show them the way. You give them everything they need… and they still struggle.

And sometimes I catch myself projecting that onto God thinking He must feel that same frustration with us.

Like, “What more do you need?”

But the truth is… God didn’t respond to our brokenness with frustration.

He responded with Jesus.

Not because we had it all together.

Not because we were finally getting it right.

But because we weren’t.

Jesus didn’t go to the cross as a reaction to us failing.

He went as a solution for it.

He knew we would struggle.

He knew we would fall.

He knew we would keep trying, keep repenting, and sometimes keep repeating the same things.

And He chose the cross anyway.

That kind of love is hard to fully comprehend.

It’s not earned.

It’s not based on performance.

It’s not withdrawn when we mess up.

It’s steady.

It’s intentional.

It’s sacrificial.

So today, I’m not trying to clean this up or make it feel lighter than it is.

I’m sitting in the weight of it.

The pain.

The cost.

The reality of what Jesus endured.

But I’m also holding onto this truth:

Even knowing everything about us—our flaws, our patterns, our failures, He still chose us.

And maybe that’s what makes Good Friday “good.”

Not because it wasn’t painful…

But because love showed up in the middle of it.

And it changed everything.