At the beginning of the Lenten season, I shared a poem I wrote a couple of years ago for a project a friend headed. This is another artistic reflection for that same project, only specifically written for Good Friday. I actually wrote this poem before being approached for this project, but I shared it there first last year. I hope that it is an encouragement to you as we leave the Lenten season and enter the time of Easter.
How can I call it good?
How can I call it good
To see Him upon that tree,
To watch my suffering Savior die
For wretchedness like me?
How can I call it good?
This dark Friday whereupon
My Lord, my King, my precious Lamb,
A cross He once was drawn?
How can I call it good
When my heart now swells with pain
With misery that is my sin
On His back then was lain?
How can I call it good
To watch His rent body bow
As He takes His pure dying breath
That I might live here now?
But what is this but good
That my life is now made free?
For that good night was not His last,
That cross on Calvary.
For this here is our good
That new Sunday hope did bring:
For though He died to justify,
He rose again to reign.
And now I see the good;
That dark Friday paid my due!
My Christ redeemèd what was lost
And birthed my life anew.
So now I call it Good,
That old happy fault, now gone.
Taking what would have left me dead,
He made me with Him one.
Blessings to you and yours,
~Madelyn Rose Craig
Madelyn Rose Craig 