The skies are darkening as the storm nears. I know many are praying it away, but I'm not. Don't get me wrong, I do NOT want a tornado. I know all too well the damage they can do. But thunder, lightning, trees bending in the wind? For some strange reason that sounds wonderful to me on this Good Friday.
I had high and lofty plans for today. We would start our day with lit candles, reading about the cross, solemn hearts reflecting on His sacrifice. Then, after child #3's speech therapy, I would run a quick errand and school would commence. Next, child #4 would go for his OT evaluation and I would come home to proofread essays, make dinner, and get our crew ready for the Good Friday service at church.
Yeah, that isn't exactly how the day went.
Oh, we made the appointments, the essays are written, but I have procrastinated and ignored the task I should do and they have not been proofread. I sat in my husband's office and played on my phone while my hubby did work on the computer and the kids screamed at each other upstairs. I have no idea if what they are wearing is appropriate, but apparently it is what they will wear to church because I am out here on my front porch typing this.
Correction: Child #4 just walked out here in mismatched, stained athletic clothes. Ok, he will have to change. I can't be that loose.
Oh great, apparently there is a tornado warning in the next county. Whatever.
Anywho, suffice it to say today I have not been great at reflecting on Jesus. A Good Friday fail, if you will. So this crazy part of me thinks it would be perfect to end this day in a storm shelter wrapped in blankets with flashlights aglow, praying for safety.
Because in a weird way it parallels the world on that first Good Friday, when the sun hid its face and the curtain was torn in two, when the disciples huddled in fear because all hope seemed lost. It wouldn't be all bad, would it?
Yes, it is Friday. It is stormy and dark and hearts are afraid, but just you wait.