Good Friday
a poem from the day of Redemption
GOOD FRIDAY
by Elisabeth G. Biggs
Why do we call it ‘good’, the day He died?
How can we rejoice in His tears and sighs?
The suffering of another in our place:
He paid the final price. He won the race.
Why do we call it ‘good,’ when He was slain?
Do we take delight in another’s pain?
By no means! For by His death we live.
His righteousness, to us, He gives.
I call it ‘good’ because He died for me.
I celebrate the day Christ set me free.
“But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brough us peace, and by his wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5)
Thank you for the reminder of why we call Good Friday good!
Blessings
Glory to God, sweet daughter! Love you much. "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves His life, loses it, and whoever hates His life in this world, will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am , there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him" (John 12:24-26).