A Prayer for Good Friday

“Blessed Lord Jesus,

Before thy cross I kneel and see the heinousness of my sin, my iniquity that caused thee to be ‘made a curse’, the evil that excites the severity of divine wrath.

Show me the enormity of my guilt by the crown of thorns, the pierced hands and feet, the bruised body, the dying cries.

Thy blood is the blood of incarnate God, its worth infinite, its value beyond all thought. Infinite must be the evil and guilt that demands such a price.

Let me walk humbly in the lowest depths of humiliation, bathed in thy blood, tender of conscience, triumphing gloriously as an heir of salvation.”

Today, as I think about the cross, do I truly see the ugliness and severity of my sin? Am I duly humbled by the enormity of my guilt?

“O Lord, I marvel that thou shouldst become incarnate, be crucified, dead and buried.

Give me to die with thee that I may rise to new life, for I wish to be as dead and buried to sin, to selfishness, to the world.

O Lord, there is much ill about me — crucify it; much flesh within me –mortify it.

Purge me from selfishness, the fear of man, the love of approbation, the shame of being thought old-fashioned, the desire to be cultivated or modern.

Let me reckon my old life dead because of crucifixion, and never feed it as a living thing.

Grant me to stand with my dying Saviour, to be content to be rejected, to be willing to take up unpopular truths, and to hold fast despised teachings until death.

Help me to be resolute and Christ-contained.

Grant me more and more of the resurrection life; may it rule me, may I walk in its power, and be strengthened through its influence.”

Is my life crucified with Christ? Am I living as one dead to sin and selfishness? Am I willing to let Christ crucify the sin within me and mortify the flesh that still longs for the things of the world?

“O my Saviour,

I thank thee from the depths of my being for thy wondrous grace and love in bearing my sin in thine own body on the tree.

By thy cross crucify my every sin; use it to increase my intimacy with thyself;

Make it the ground of all my comfort, the liveliness of all my duties, the sum of all thy gospel promises, the comfort of all my afflictions, the vigour of my love, thankfulness, graces, the very essence of my religion.

O my Lord and Saviour, Thou hast also appointed a cross for me to take up and carry, a cross before thou givest me a crown.

Teach me, gracious Lord and Saviour, that with my cross thou sendest promised grace so that I may bear it patiently, that my cross is thy yoke which is easy, and thy burden which is light.”

Am I living in such a way that the cross is all my comfort, the essence of my faith, and the very center of my life? Do I live under the weight of the cross I must take up to follow Christ? Or is it just something I think about one Friday each year?

“Heavenly Father,

Thou hast led me singing to the cross where I fling down all my burdens and see them vanish, where my mountains of guilt are leveled to a plain, where my sins disappear, though they are the greatest that exist, and are more in number than the grains of fine sand;

For there is power in the blood of Calvary to destroy sins more than can be counted.

At the cross there is free forgiveness for poor and meek ones, and ample blessings that last for ever;

The blood of the Lamb is like a great river of infinite grace with never any diminishing of its fullness as thirsty ones without number drink of it.

In the midst of a world of pain it is a subject for praise in every place, a song on earth, an anthem in heaven, its love and virtue knowing no end.”

Does my life daily sing the good news of the cross?

“Christ was all anguish that I might be all joy, cast off that I might be brought in, trodden down as an enemy that I might be welcomed as a friend, surrendered to hell’s worst that I might attain heaven’s best, stripped that I might be clothed, wounded that I might be healed, athirst that I might drink, tormented that I might be comforted, made a shame that I might inherit glory, entered darkness that I might have eternal light.

My Saviour wept that all tears might be wiped from my eyes, groaned that I might have endless song, endured all pain that I might have unfading health, bore a thorny crown that I might have a glory-diadem, bowed his head that I might uplift mine, experienced reproach that I might receive welcome, closed his eyes in death that I might gaze on unclouded brightness, expired that I might for ever live.

O that my every breath might be ecstatic praise, my every step buoyant with delight, as I see my enemies crushed; Satan baffled, defeated, destroyed; sin buried in the ocean of recoiling blood, hell’s gates closed, heaven’s portal open.

Go forth, O conquering God, and show me the cross, mighty to subdue, comfort and save.”

Do I truly understand the miracle of the cross? Can I ever really fathom it? Lord, on this Good Friday, show me the cross.


(All quotations taken from The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions, emphasis mine. Specific prayers quoted: “The Precious Blood”, “Crucifixion and Resurrection”, “The Grace of the Cross”, “Calvary’s Anthem”, and “Love Lustres at Calvary”.)


Ode to Tums

You’d think I would know better; you’d think that I would learn.

I just can’t eat some dishes without feeling the burn.

Lasagna, how I love you; and pizza, you’re my fave.

It’s spicy or Italian food or garlic that I crave.

I love my chips and salsa, and feel I need the heat

of hot sauce or Tabasco almost every time I eat.

What’s salad without dressing, and that sweet, sour bite

Of vinaigrette, balsamic, or Italian that I like?

These foods don’t go down easy, and they put up a fight,

Making me sick at bedtime; keeping me up all night.

It starts with a full tummy, and then a little burp,

Next thing you know I’m belching, and re-tasting my dessert!

It’s not ladylike, I know; but it just can’t be helped!

This baby in my belly makes herself known with a belch.

A glass of milk may be helpful; home remedies I’ve tried:

Pickle juice and papaya can’t keep the burps inside.

‘Cause when I’m really struggling with bad acid reflux,

Milk just isn’t strong enough, all the home remedies suck.

In that moment I turn to a tried and tested source,

of relief (and calcium – it’s good for you, of course!)

I reach for the blue bottle, and when I hear the sound,

Of rattling pills I know that relief will soon be found.

Oh, Tums, I dearly love thee! Now let me count the ways,

You help me out and soothe me, and get me through hard days.

Sometimes I just need two pills, and sometimes I need four;

Many days the heartburn keeps me coming back for more.

Peanut butter sandwiches no longer pose a threat,

With Tums fighting off reflux, the challenge can be met.

I take them after dinner, and often before bed,

No longer am I tasting burps – it’s chalky Tums instead!

With a bottle in my purse, and one beside my bed,

I no longer have to fear the food that lies ahead.

So bring on the spaghetti! Please, someone pass the wings.

With joy I read the menu, and eat my favorite things.

So whether you are pregnant, or just have bad heartburn,

Please take this advice from me; heed the lesson that I’ve learned.

Indigestion can be cured, acid reflux can be fixed.

Go buy yourself some Tums – they always do the trick!