I admit that a subcutaneous listlessness sets in every time a sentence begins with “In this Lenten season …” I didn’t grow up with Lent or Good Friday “services” or such, and they are not part of my yearly rhythm now. They’re not covered in scripture, so I can do without them. I’ve been going about my business fairly normally, given that this is a Break week for me. Saturday, I worked at the office, and it was wonderfully quiet. I got so much done that I wouldn’t ordinarily have accomplished.
But I can’t shake the remembrances. This is significant time in the year, and whether the body of Jesus went into the tomb on Thursday or Friday, and whether He was in the grave for 72 hours or 51, His death, burial, and rising are cataclysmic events.
I find myself looking for songs whose lyrics briefly pass through my consciousness. Talbot’s “On the third day” comes to mind.
I find myself feeling a twinge of guilt for doing things glibly during the time in the year that commemorates my Savior’s death.
My ears perked more when Yvonne prayed about “Jesus” in Jedd’s hearing tonight at the table.
I’m looking forward to church more than usual, and looking forward even more to home church soon after.
I think I’ll look up the song I wrote years ago that I wrote about a couple of years ago … words by Rob McRay and Landon Saunders (and me), and I think I’ll sing it. (Find the words here.)
All that was accomplished on the cross by Jesus the Messiah makes the difference. Praise Him.