GOOD?

      Five years.  It's been five years.  I struggle, not only to come to some kind of terms with that, but also to express what it means, what it feels like, how it still hurts.  And as you've probably noticed, this year, five years falls on Good Friday.  Five years.  Good Friday.  Five? Good? Really?
     Growing up, I used to wonder why on earth we called this day "GOOD Friday."  I mean, yeah, the end result was good....more than.  But for all the horror of that day, it seems a little strange to label it good and name the day that.  What I'd overlooked were the "tiny" details. The things that happened that only get a sentence in the story, but are HUGELY significant when you take a closer look. Like, "And the curtain of the temple was torn in two." (Luke 23:45b)  It's not even a whole verse.  But it's so much.  Because the curtain meant so much. It meant separation. Separation between us and God.  Big, dark, and heavy. And Jesus, by His death, tore that curtain in two. No more separation, from that moment forward. Forever. By His own words, it was finished.  Such a tiny blip for such a monumental change. 
     Interestingly enough, separation is one thing I'm really torn up about on this anniversary. Because five years feels like such a gulf of separation. Like an immense abyss with no end in sight. It's unbelievable. Inconceivable. It just feels so dominant. But then there is this tiny little nugget of a partial verse.....a soothing reminder for my heart and soul.  If the veil is torn, and there is no longer separation, and I have Jesus and Jesus has me, and Jesus has Braeden.....are we really so far apart?

"A scarred hand grasps both his and mine, so we'll never really part."
~our sweet nurse and friend Kelli, who wrote Braeden's memorial poem

     This was the gentle and loving reminder my spirit so needed this time around. Why I believe that this year, God drew me to that tiny mention of the curtain. Because my heart feels so far away from Braeden, separated by a sea of time and space.  But it's not, not really.  It is in reality, a distance of only a few hands, and only a short amount of time when compared to the eternity that's before us. And that's so easy to forget in the hurt and longing. 
     I'm reminded of a song, a Christmas song, that goes, "We're not that far from Bethlehem, where all our hope and joy began. And if our hearts still Cherish Him, we're not that far from Bethlehem."  We're not.  The source of our hope and joy is so close--right here! And my heart.....my heart still cherishes Jesus, and still cherishes my son.  They are not far.  They're here.  Cherished.  They always will be.  Forever.
     I guess that is pretty good. :)