We have a tradition. It’s good Friday.
In the morning we wake up early, we rush to get ready, have a weird breakfast together then pack into the car for church. I go to Mum and Dad’s church and we struggle to entertain Archie during the sermon.
We all grab a hot cross bun and rush to the car. There are fights about who sits in the very back and we drive down the coast for lunch. Half way through someone always feel sick but we push through. We stop for lunch at the Coledale RSL. We walk on the beach, collect shells and get an ice-cream. Then we drive home.
Amongst the chaos, Good Friday is far more than lunch in Coledale, ice-cream and hot cross buns.
We remember Christ crucified. Our punishment nailed to a tree. A man who did no wrong, bore our sins. So we could live in right relationship with our creator. And what a Joy. What a gift that we don’t deserve.