Friday, April 06, 2007

Good Friday

Can't you almost see the cross on the hill? I have never really understood why the day about Christ's death has been called "good." And, I know that today as I have reflected on my life, I can only call it Good. Beautiful. Abundant.

While it has not been a day of silence, it has been a day I have spent with myself. I spent the morning communing with my home. It was very comforting to spend time cleaning, unpacking, doing laundry and welcoming Spring. It is a glorious day in Seattle. Blue skies, a slight breeze and temperatures in the low 70's. It is a spring delight. As I write, I sit on my back deck with my old yellow dog, Curry, at my feet. I have spoken with a few friends today. They have blessed me and I have blessed them. I have shared e-mails and received amazing words of kindness about my gifts. Buechner's words on vocation come to mind. "The place where God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet." I am blessed to have been called to that place of deep gladness.

And what has this to do with Good Friday? For me, it symbolizes life and the intricate role death plays in our living. Abundant Life. Life includes my friends and family as well as the man on the bus and the Native American woman I encountered on my walk today. Her toothless smile brightened my day as we looked each other squarely in the eye and greeted one another. I wept as I read Naomi Shihab Nye's poem at Chrisine's site about the beauty of community and breaking bread. Again, Good Friday points toward life. Welcoming the world, person by person, with simple gestures of love and care; being grateful for old dogs and clean sheets. These make life "good." Thank you, Lord, for today's reminder of life, death and resurrection.

"This can still happen anywhere.

Not everything is lost." --Naomi Shihab Nye

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

A beautiful and moving post. And I hadn't heard the quote on vocation you give us. I'm so glad for you that you had such a blessed day.