GOOD Friday

Today is Good Friday. It is one of the most sacred days of our religious year. It is a day that I have always held in very high reverence, and today I was able to share a little of that special experience with my daughters. *Warning: this entry will likely get a little preachy*

To explain better, a little backstory is necessary. When we moved to Texas, the parish we attended had a Living Stations of the Cross each Good Friday. The middle schoolers and high schoolers would act out the stations while parishioners followed along and prayed. I started participating in it either in 6th or 7th grade, and continued to participate every year until I graduated. Many years I was just a woman in the crowd or some other small role, although I remember one year I was Mary, and it was such a powerful experience to play that role and use our reenactment as a special form of prayer. After I graduated, I would return home for Easter and attended the Living Stations as an observer, but since we moved away from Texas, I have not been able to attend a Living Stations of the Cross on Good Friday. Whether it was for lack of a church that offered it, a newborn baby, or an unruly toddler, the cards have not been in my favor.

I discovered a few weeks ago that the parish we currently attend was having a Good Friday Living Stations at 3pm. Since then, I have been trying to figure out if it was wise to try and go. Would the girls understand? Would they be quiet and well-behaved enough for such a somber service? What in the world would I do if they didn't behave themselves? After wrestling with my doubts, I finally decided to give it a try. Both Molly and Jocie took early naps, so were fully rested by the time we had to leave. I had already prepped the older two by reading to them out of their children's Bible what today was about and the "play" we would be going to see at church. I loaded everyone in the car and said more than one prayer for a peaceful and meaningful experience.

Once again, God and my daughters blew away my expectations. The Stations were actually done outside on this beautiful 60-degree afternoon. Molly did not make a PEEP the entire service (although the Goldfish she was devouring in the stroller probably had something to do with that). Ava and Jocelyn walked from station to station in silence paying attention to what was going on. At Station 1, I teared up as these high schoolers began sharing their faith with us. It seems we are so often surrounded with news of all the rotten things teenagers do; it was wonderful to see so many good kids voluntarily being so faithful. At Station 4, when Mary saw Jesus and was held back by one of the soldiers, Jocelyn's hands flew to her heart, and she was genuinely distressed for Mary. (She talked about that specific part several times later in the day as well - talk about tugging at Momma's heartstrings.) Somewhere around Christ's crucifixion at Station 12, some of the performers sang a beautiful song. It was a slow hymn, very appropriate for the moment. However, I glanced down at Molly to find her moving back and forth, dancing to the music. How sweet and innocent of my child to simply hear music and rather than hear sadness dance with joy. After we got home, Ava and I sat for a while and talked about Good Friday, and reread the stories in her Bible.

I have to be totally honest here - I am not very good about sharing God with my kids on a daily basis. We pray at meals and bedtime, and occasionally we'll talk about God (mainly how he wants us to be good). But today I was blown away by how much my kids picked up on what was going on and the importance of it all. I really only expected Ava to comprehend any of it, but Jocelyn understood WAY more than I thought she would. They not only behaved themselves, but they grew in Jesus today. I cannot imagine how this Good Friday could have been any better. I thank God for giving us His Son to save us all, and for blessing me with these daughters that I time and again feel so blessed to be charged with raising in His name.