When I sit back and really think about Good Friday, it’s not a happy scene going on in my head. This is because I know that I was responsible for Good Friday. The verse that hits me on Good Friday is Isaiah 53:5.
But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed.
I have replaced all collective pronouns (we, our, etc) to make real what Jesus did for me. I have bolded the changes so you know what I’ve changed.
But He was pierced through for my transgressions, He was crushed for my iniquities; The chastening for my well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging I am healed.
I am meant to be pierced, crushed, chastened and scourged for all eternity. Instead, He was pierced, crushed, chastened and scourged in my place. How can I not love this Man?
The adjective used with this noun messes with my mind – Every. Single. Time.
Until I remind myself to see the adjective for Friday in the context of Sunday.
Thank God for Easter Sunday. If not for Easter Sunday, I don’t think I can handle Good Friday.
Thank you, Lord. Really.