Good Friday

It was, indeed, a Good Friday. Mommy and Rosie went shoe shopping and were treated to pedicures (my Easter gift from Daddy as chocolate doesn't really fit with the no flour, no sugar thing). We window shopped at Williams Sonoma and shared lunch at the mall. I saw the chiropractor and had a 1/2 hour massage (this is my favorite form of therapy yet!!!!!) from the world's best therapist (even if I do occasionally come out with bruises!).

Gareth and the boys spent the day outside. Gareth got to do woodwork almost all day, the boys played in the rain in the morning, and when the sun came out in the afternoon, they got to wear shorts for the first time this year. We had dinner at Abuelo's, and I got to cuddle Nathan for an hour while he napped. Our church's Good Friday service was excellent. But, by far, the best part of Good Friday came after Good Friday service.

Noah didn't really want to go to Good Friday service. He was tired and a little out of sorts. So, when I finished with the choir and came to sit with the family, he had to be told to sit up. Nathan hadn't even let me get comfortably settled before he crawled into my lap and fell asleep, and Rosie was sitting on Daddy's lap but cuddling my arm, so I wasn't really paying much attention to what Noah was doing once I made sure that he was sitting up. Wasn't really paying much attention that is, until I heard the little sniffing sounds and looked over to see tears rolling down his face. When I leaned over to ask him what was wrong, he dissolved into full-blown sobs (apologies to those families sitting around us last night).

Nathan was blissfully ignorant, and my arms were full, so I did my best to shhh him, and when this didn't work, asked Daddy to set Rosie down and see what was wrong with Noah. He only sobbed more, buried his head in Daddy's arms, and wouldn't tell us. Gareth managed to get the sobs to at least be quiet ones, and Noah continued to cry quietly throughout communion.

When we got out of the van to walk into Abuelo's, Noah came to find me, and slipping his hand into mine, said, "I was just crying because all I could think about how many times I sin. And,
I was thinking about what it cost Jesus to pay for what I did".

I remember as a little girl the first time it really hit me just how much Jesus suffered and that it was my sin that made that necessary. It was a life-changing realization (and I seem to remember a certain little girl who had to be removed from a service because she was sobbing rather a lot). It continues to be a life-changing realization, and it was so special to be there when it happened to Noah and then to be able to talk with him about it.

It has been 3 years since Noah told us that he had asked Jesus to be His Savior, and it never fails to thrill me as we see evidence of him growing in his understanding of Scripture and seeking to apply it in his life. What a privilege it is to watch a little Christian grow. What a responsibility it is to teach and train these small lives I have been given responsibility for.