I wrote this many years ago and read it every Easter weekend as a reminder. May it speak to you in some small way.
by Steve Laube
Holy weekend is such a study in contrasts.
Friday is dark. Somber. Frightening in its hopelessness and pain.
I do not like Dark Fridays.
The nails bury themselves deep into my soul.
They become a singular stake through the heart of this sinner.
Piercing. Rending. Bloody.
Vanquishing this creature of the night who dares to follow his own way.
Christ’s death becomes mine.
The death I deserve.