My Most Powerful Good Friday Ever

Well, Dickens said it well when he said, "It was the best of times it was the worst of times."
On Good Friday this year, I was under the impression that my dad did not want to speak to me anymore. Therefore, when I thought about Jesus' agony in the garden, knowing he was soon to become sin for us and accept our punishment and out judgment from the Father, I could relate. It was an amazingly painful situation, but through meditating on how well Jesus understood my pain, it made this the most powerful Good Friday of my life.

I really enjoyed the Paschal Triduum. In the Protestant Church, we had to cram the whole thing into an Easter Sunday Service. It was awesome every time. Being raised Pentecostal, I was used to prayers for everyone who needed it on almost any Sunday. I noticed that more people actually got healed when prayed for on Easter Sunday. It is a powerful time and has always been, at least for me.

It didn't work quite that way in the Catholic church, it was still very special and restorative. One of my old friends who has gotten out of fellowship and into a lot of weird or heretical teachings came to my confirmation. It was nice that he went to church, for once.

The staff advisor of the PRIDE chapter at my community college was there on Good Friday. His husband (in the states eyes, but obviously not in God's) and the kids they have both adopted were not there, though. He was there alone, for some reason. He  kissed he cross and walked out singing, "Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom," and left before they served communion.
He sang solos at the Saturday Vigil, and was in the choir for the special music. Again, the man he is involved with and the kids they are raising together were not there.
I pray for God to draw him, and to bring healing to his life, to the other man's life, and to do a profound work in those children's life.

I was invited to my Methodist Friend's Good Friday service. They sang a hymn about how Sunday's palms are Wednesday's ashes. Both churches sang a black spiritual called "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?" Both churches read a lot of the same verses and said similar or same prayers. I was allowed to take communion there even though I am not Methodist, while at St Patrick's it was the last time that I couldn't. Communion is a powerful experience for me, even when I was Protestant. I had been really missing that while going through RCIA.


All this time I was thinking I had no blood-family anymore, except my mom. I later learned there was a problem with the phones that was really strange and I am glad my dad did not actually turn away from me in real life.
I sent my dad an email on Good Friday Evening, from an email address he did not have in case he had blocked me. A few days later I got a text message that said, "I LOVE YOU!" from him. I called and we figured out what had happened, bit not how it had happened. Somehow, his number in my phone got edited and one digit changed, and he wasn't getting my messages. It was someone else's phone that was set, at the subscriber's request, not to accept my calls.
 Jesus was also restored to His father. My dad told me emphatically that he would never, ever, do such a thing, he would never decide he did not want to be in my life. I hope that this is true. I know it is true of the Father I reached for when I thought that my earthly dad had turned away from me. It was a crazy mix-up of communication devices there an it caused a lot of pain, but it also helped make this the most wonderful Good Friday service ever.