Holy week — day six, Good Friday

I am weary and overwhelmed.
This too shall pass.
Here we are
only here.
You are still you
still joy, still good,
still rushing at me.
Today, you lap up death
for me.
Lap it up like grace.
you won’t choke
like I do.
Your cup of deepest sorrow
and your cup of deepest joy.
Please, draw near, Forsaken.

I am weary and overwhelmed,
but it’s Good Friday.
mourning of death, mourning
for life, grace and mercy and joy
that cannot die,
are all here, right here, only here.
Sorrow and
joy of life at all –
sit side by side
and do not wrestle.

It feels like breaking sacred silence
to mention that you rise again.
You do. How else could we bear it?
Today is good Friday.
Today is also Easter,
for we are Easter people,
hope and life are irrevocably
part of the air we breathe.
Because you.
Still, we are Good Friday people,
people of the cross. People of
the day you lapped up death
for us.
So we can lap up this air – Love
that holds everything together,
that tastes a bit like gall today,
but is Love all the same.


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