a feable attempt at Good Friday

It's Good Friday. I'm glad for today. ...and tomorrow, & Sunday. I'm glad it's three days. I'm glad that Jesus is no stranger to pain. No stranger...to abuse. Today...is when we...when I, remember just how loud Jesus says: "I love you."
This is when Jesus dips his finger into his own side...& gently grabs my arm, & writes with his finger, with his own blood: I love you. ...this is how bad he wants me. I think he's crazy. All this...& I'm the prize? Really? You sure about this? That this is what you want? I cannot put into words how I know His answer is yes. what it means. Tonight was cool. My Dad sometimes helps pass out the communion elements. He did tonight. And he handed them out to our section. So He handed them directly to me. the bread...the cup. The irony was not lost. My Heavenly Father gave me the actual elements: Jesus. Jesus body. His sacrifice for me. So we can live together forever. He gave me my Earthly Father, who gave me the symbols of this sacrifice. I am so very blessed. I have not one but two great Dads. [& the one gave me the other.]


To me, Jesus didn't go through abuse once. He had it done to himself once... but he was there when I was abused. He saw all of it. My abuser told me that no one could hear me [cry for help] & no one was coming to save me. He...was...WRONG. Someone was there.
I remember asking Jesus ...asking God, if he could see me. As I lay there, unable to move. Unable to escape. In my mind's eye I suddenly could see the ceiling disappear. It was replaced by a face. A sad face ...the size of the ceiling. It made me feel like I wasn't alone. I wasn't freed. I had someone to sit in that hell with me.
I remember asking Jesus... if this was what the cross felt like. Of course, it wasn't. I was lying down. I wasn't in front of a crowd of people. So no. Yet it was a beginning of me being able to realize that Jesus was no stranger to such evils. Jesus was a real guy. Not just he really existed. He understood how ugly life...people... can be. He wasn't scared of blood, of bruises, of pain. No one scares him. No one shuts him out... of anywhere.

I know that my relationship with Jesus is unique. I still cannot believe all that I have lived through. All the conversations I've had with him. Good... & soul crushing. Wanting out...wanting to die, to be "un-created"... wanting to understand. Wanting answers...& being afraid that the answers won't make me feel any better. Knowing... that he loves me, anyway. Knowing that nothing & no one can shut him out, away from me.

Jesus,
thank you.
for listening to my cries
for hearing my pleas for help
for sitting with me
when I was bruised
when I was bleeding
when I wanted to disappear
thank you
for going through
what I have been through
for being willing to:
"embrace the suck"
that can happen in life
thank you for being willing
to be my rescue
for listening to me
when what I said
was totally against
you
and your love
for me
thank you for winning
for me
for making me yours
there will never be
words
poems
songs
to tell you
what being loved
by you
means
thank you
for dying
so I can live
with you
thank you
for being you
and loving me

yours,
b.e. noll

How love wins

May His grace drip from your fingers,
B