It was Good Friday for us. The adored Son of Heaven suffering beatings, crucifixion and the sins of all mankind–past, present and future–settling on Him.
I have wondered what the angels felt when they saw their darling boy on that cross. I can’t help but believe that they absolutely ached and grieved for Him. He had been with them since time began, and now, snarling, cursing, abusive humans were tearing Him apart.
It is a sobering thought. Jesus’ crucifixion and death suddenly took on a new aspect for me as I thought not just of God watching that horror, but all of the angels seeing The Beloved be tortured and die.
There are times when it just seems impossible to have happened. As I long to know God more, the greater my times of “this is too insane to believe,” are. But I desperately need to believe this wild, savage story of how much God and Christ loved us…before time began.
My disorder manifests itself in several ways. One of the worst is the feeling of being unworthy of love. If I could only rid myself of one of the aspects of being a borderline, that would be it. I am unworthy of being loved, but God loves me anyway. I am just struggling to believe it.
But I am certain that it was a Good Friday for us.