Good Friday

Jesus, and I went for walk on Good Friday. It was an amazing walk. Usually I have some question or issues that I need his input on, but this walk was quiet. We both knew what today was about.

At one point I wanted to ask him why he asked God to forgive those who crucified him. I could have thought of something far more appropriate than, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” But when I looked at him I realized that words would get in the way. So we walked.

I almost asked what happened to him when he was in the tomb. Theologians debate about that all the time. I could get the answer right from his mouth and do the talk show circuit correcting all those who live on taking the mystery out of the mysterious. But, yesterday didn’t seem to be a good topic for words.

So we walked. Slowly my questions that almost made it past my lips started to fade and I became aware of His presence. I didn’t need to know. I didn’t need to ask. I didn’t even need to listen. Just walk.

I sometimes forget about the power of walking with the Master. Often I am too hungry for insight to experience nearness and too eager to have answers to drink in what is living. Just walk.

I realized the One walking with me knows about my failures - and still walks with me. I thought about the fact that the One next to me that knows my thoughts - still loves me. I celebrated the One who journeys with (and in) me knows my soul is not flawless - and yet he receives it without hesitation.  

His smile reminded me that he enjoys being with me too. There was no point in asking why he does. I’ve tried. It’s a circular argument. He loves me because he loves me. Today I just walked in that.

The fire in his eyes provided cleansing when they meet with mine. One time, when we glanced toward each other, I realized that not only does he look deep into my life, he allows me to do the same when I look at him. It’s like looking at the sun, you can’t do it for long, but when you look away the brightness remains and impacts everything else you see. I like that about him. 

Sometimes words mess up presence.

Today, I’m doing more than remembering the cross. I’m walking with the One that went there. I'm not done yet.

Quietly Walking,

Dave