Good, Good Friday

This time of year, and this part of celebrating Easter is heartbreaking. The Victory, yes, is too awesome and powerful for any kind of speech other than praise, and that doesn't even feel adequate. I think that the spiritual maturity that happens with age, and faith, and all the messy-beautiful stuff of life just makes Good, Good Friday ever so heartbreaking... for this mama, at least. Experiencing Good Friday as a mother makes me love Mary all-the-more, and makes me detest sin and betrayal more acute and sharp. The Crucifixion. The Friday that is called Good because of the Grace and Miracle of three-days-later.