Good Friday

I woke up this morning and there was nothing "good" about today. There was nothing "good" about anything. My faith, is my world. Without it I cease to exist. Yet for this Lent, my faith has been somewhere else. I've been disconnected from everything and everyone and God is very much included in that. My prayers were said with a weary heart. With so little effort because I had none to give. My weakened state consumed me and I found no refuge. My mentality and the way I function, however, is not to give up. Even when it's all I want to do. I shut down emotions. I shut down my deepest needs. But I do my best to keep plowing through. I go through the motions until something gains meaning. Until my heart heals just enough to feel.

I stood on the altar at noon. My teens were ready to reenact the Stations of the Cross. They took their places, and we began. The first station passed, and my heart remained empty. The second station passed and nothing. But we hit the third, and I looked down to read my part and everything froze. I suddenly got cold and I struggled to open my mouth. For what seemed like forever I know was only a second. My composure in check I read the following:

Jesus, the weight of the cross crushed you to the ground. Yet knowing that death lay ahead, you still got up and went on. When burdens of sorrow weigh heavily upon me, I often find it difficult to go on with my life. When I stumble and fall, when I mourn for what is lost, give me your strength to rise and walk anew.

My heart tugged in my chest. Emotion welled up inside of me, but I shoved it aside. The fourth station passed, the fifth, and the sixth and I struggled to maintain focus. Everything hurt too much. I stood there trying to be perfect. I always try to be perfect. The seventh station began, and once again I glanced at my paper to read:

Lord, none of us are perfect. We all have disabilities-some are physical, others are emotional or psychological. When living conditions seem difficult, it is hard to keep going...I want to quit, I want to give up. But You encourage me to keep going by Your example.

Tears filled my eyes. I used everything I could to force my voice from cracking because I spoke those words to the Lord, "I want to quit, I want to give up". My heart cried out "Yes! Lord I'm done. You've exhausted my strength." My legs were weak and I yearned to fall to the ground and cry. But in the same breath I also said the words "But You encourage me to keep going by Your example". And so I kept going.

Stations ended, and after mingling shortly I left church and came home. My apartment is silent. I'm left to my thoughts. Last night I handed Christ over. Today I crucified Him. I take the responsibility. It was my sin. It's still my sin. But my weakness is overwhelming. I feel like I too was handed over last night. As though this second I hang from the cross with Him. But who crucified me? Who am I dying for? And mostly, on Easter Sunday, will I be able to rise too?

Lord, forgive me.