Yesterday was Good Friday and I posted about Ernie Kovacs. Yesterday was the day we set aside to observe the crucifixion of Christ and I posted about Bambi vs. Godzilla. What’s wrong with me?
But it really is just another day, isn’t it? A lot of people got off work yesterday. Traffic was light going home. We went to Church last night so there would be more room for visitors on Sunday. (More people go to Church on Easter than any other day.) The service was good. I was coming down with some kind of croup so I don’t think I got as much out of it as I should have. Maybe the seed of a thought was planted that could grow into something but for the most part it felt like just another day.
Just another day. (Apparently that’s a Paul McCartney, not a Beatles, song.) A young woman goes to work every day, somehow getting through each day, waiting for the one who would take away the loneliness. Sometimes she finds someone and he stays the night but he leaves the next day. So sad, so sad. Sometimes she feels so sad.
The tragedy is that there are so many who are looking, searching for someone who will take away the loneliness. The tragedy is that they don’t know He has come. He has come and He promised He will not leave the next day. He said He would never leave us or forsake us.
Good Friday is just another day. Easter is just another day. But what a day. What a day they all are. I don’t know if we realize how different things are this side of the cross, this side of the empty tomb. (Our pastor says we think more about the cross than the empty tomb and I think that’s probably right.) Think what we have that they didn’t have. We have the constant presence of Jesus. We have the guiding hand of the Holy Spirit. We have access to the Father. Personal, one on One. We take it for granted, our personal relationship with the Father, with the Son, with the Holy Spirit.
Just another day.
From a Far Country 