It's Always Friday Before The Dawn

Today is Good Friday.

I'm 21 years old this year. Not particularly old or anything. Certainly not trying to boast about the fact that there is no country on Earth that I can't drink in. I'm simply counting the years that I've forgotten what Good Friday actually means.

If I'm 21 now that means this is my 22nd Good Friday right?

I missed 21 of them.

As I recall, at my Christian school we hardly ever talked about the dying part. Spare the children the brutal truth and that kind of thing right? Wrong. We need to remember.

There have been three different occasions over the last 3 months where I've been compared to Simon Peter. I take great joy in this. This is the man Jesus entrusted His church too! But I forgot that Peter had denied Our Lord, when He needed him the most, he denied him. I wish I'd remembered.

Last night I was in Yuen Long doing some last minute shopping, feeling kind of bummed out because one of my friends had left without me and I thought we were gonna chill. I let the feelings build quickly and unleashed them on someone totally different, and stormed away like a little girl who got the wrong dollhouse for Christmas. I spent the next two hours huffing and puffing around the city buying dehumidifying bags and other such trivial things one needs when traveling, in such a rage that I actually had the balls to thank God for such a wonderful day.

On my way home, I apologized to Jesus for my behaviour, but asked Him why this was happening. Why was I so upset about something so small? Why was I so sad, angry, etc.?

"It's Thursday night," Jesus said to me.

Oh no. I really am Peter. On the night before Good Friday, I'd acted as Peter had on the night he watched Jeus be put on trial. He denied Jesus. I was tested, and I blamed Jesus. And yet, I'm forgiven. My brothers whom I had yelled at or been left by and thus was angry at forgave me when I got home. They embraced me. When I told them that I'd failed in Spiritual Warfare, they aided me. And when I prayed to the one I'd hurt the most, He forgave me and instructed me.

He told me to fast until further notice.

On Thursday, I'd fasted my supper because some of us were short the fees for our Missions trip that we leave for on Monday. My plan was to eat in Yuen Long, but my anger and depression kept me from going to the restaurant called Mr. Nepali's (where they sell some of the most delicious food you will ever eat for the least amount of money you will ever pay). So my fast started at 3:30 pm on the Thursday before Good Friday.

I didn't eat supper. I didn't eat breakfast. I didn't eat lunch. I didn't eat anything in between. In Worship I cried tears for what Jesus did for me on Friday. At 3:30 pm on this Good Friday, one of my leaders approached me and said that my Outreach had been paid for. Anonymously. Not minutes later, God said I could eat again.

On the day that Jesus gave it all for me, when I finally remembered to appreciate it, He gave me even more. I'll never forget what Good Friday means again.

The first article ever posted on The Sister's Son was Chocolatey Secrets of the Rabbit's Egg, where I essentially denied what it was that Jesus did today. I take it back. I take it back.

Jesus reigns, and I won't ever deny that again. Praise the Lord, Oh my Soul Praise the Lord!