Posted by: Missy | April 10, 2009

It’s Friday,

but Sunday’s comin’!

That’s what I heard as soon as I got in the car and turned on the radio this morning.  And oh, were they words I needed to hear.  I was in tears before the car was even out of the garage.

The last two weeks have been hard.  Actually, the last 15 months have been hard; the last two weeks?  I’m not even sure how to express it.

In the last two weeks I’ve been to the doctor four times (including once to an out of town ER at1:30 in the morning), taken Katie to the eye doctor twice, and Monday morning I went to the pediatrician twice, once with each child. Our schedule has included the usual spring gigs, plus the additional craziness of dissertation stuff, a job hunt.

I’ve spent the last few weeks emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually wiped out.  I am just so completely overwhelmed; I told my husband the other night I feel like I’m being attacked.

Needless to say I have not spent any time preparing my heart for Easter, so I was really not ready to think about today being Good Friday.

But then I got in the car.  And heard this:

It’s Friday. Jesus is praying. Peter’s a’sleepin’.  Judas is betraying. But Sunday’s coming

It’s Friday. Pilate’s struggling. The council is conspiring.  The crowd is vilifying.  They don’t even know that Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday.  The disciples are running like sheep without a shepherd.  Mary’s crying.  Peter is denying. But they don’t know that Sunday’s a comin’.

It’s Friday.  The Romans beat my Jesus.  They robe him in scars.  They crown him with thorns.  But they don’t know that Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday.  See Jesus walking to Calvary.  His blood dripping, his body stumbling, and his spirit burdened.  But you see, it’s only Friday, Sunday’s comin’. 

It’s Friday, the world’s winning.  People are sinning.  And evil’s grinning. 

It’s Friday.  The soldier’s nail my Savior’s hands to the cross.  They nail my Savior’s feet to the cross.  And then they raise him up next to criminals. 

It’s Friday.  But let me tell you something.  Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday.  The disciples are questioning what has happened to their king.  And the Pharisees are celebrating that their scheming has been achieved.  But they don’t know it’s only Friday.  Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday.  He’s hanging on the cross, feeling forsaken by his father, left alone and dying.  Can nobody save him?

It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday.  The earth trembles, the sky grows dark.  My King yields his spirit. 

It’s Friday. Hope is lost. Death has won. Sin has conquered. And Satan’s just a laughing.

It’s Friday.  Jesus is buried.  A soldier stands guard and a rock is rolled into place.

But it’s Friday.  It is only Friday.

Sunday is a comin’.*

Amazingly, I had turned the radio on at the first word.  Actually, it’s not so amazing.  God’s timing is perfect, and in this instance, evident.  Talk about a smack in the face with a major reminder of what today means.  

It’s only Friday. 

SUNDAY is coming.

Hope IS NOT lost.  Death HAS NOT won.  Sin HAS NOT conquered.  And Satan can only laugh so long.

SUNDAY is coming.

Things may be crazy and hard, and I may not be able to deal with it all.  But I don’t have to do it by myself.

SUNDAY is coming.

And just when I think I can’t take much more, He reminds me that though right now feels like one long Friday,

 SUNDAY is coming. 

I don’t know when and where it will be, but this time of difficulty won’t last.

SUNDAY is coming.

He died, so that I could live.

I am now ready for Easter.  Thank you, Lord, for the smack on the head, and for Sunday.

And lest we forget Jesus loves to laugh, He even reminded me of that this morning.  The song immediately following was He Reigns by the Newsboys (one of my favorites) so I just kept right on crying and worshiping in the car. 

I was about a mile from my house when I thought “This will be interesting when I get to work.  I’m sure I’ll look lovely after having a half hour P&W cry on the way in.  Mascara streaming down my face…”

That’s when I heard it:  “Silly, you were so focused on all the things weighing you down this morning you forgot to put on you makeup, so no worries there.”

I turned around, laughing at myself, and thanking God for the reminder that He is in the smallest details, I don’t have to carry all these worries around by myself, and He will work all of these difficulties for His good.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.  Romans 8:28

*To hear this text and see it set to scenes from The Passion of the Christ, go here.


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