Friday to Sunday and On

(By Adria King)

It’s Friday. A day engraved by the word,”good.” But I don’t ever want for even one second to let my heart go to a place where that word is what I taste in my mouth. 108,000,000,000 estimated people to have lived on this earth and Jesus took all of their sin, including mine…. That is not something we should be able to swallow and taste,”good.” We should be wrecked. We should drown in conviction…. we did that to Him. I did that to Him.

“Good” Friday should not taste good.

Oh Jesus, forgive me.

Forgive me for jabbing that spear into your side.

Forgive me for crowning you with thorns.

Forgive me for the nails in your feet.

Forgive me for the nails in your hand.

Forgive me for every scar that I have left on your body.

Forgive me for the vinegar that I made you drink.

Forgive me for the skin I ripped from your flesh, as I struck you with a whip.

Forgive me for every hour I made you hang from that cross.

My father, I am guilty.

Swallow that. I promise you won’t taste, “good.”

I did it to Him, but He did it for me.

With every step He took to calvary He was ensuring we wouldn’t live a life in anguish. He was ensuring that when that day came when I would be an 8 year old little girl standing at a graveside, staring at my father’s casket, that I would be able to go the rest of my life with someone to still call, “Father.”

When Jesus inhaled His last breath and proclaimed to every end of the earth, “IT IS FINISHED,” He was responding to every apology we could ever lay at His feet. He was telling us, despite it all…. He forgave us.

Swallow that. When you do, you will never be the same.


(By Katie)

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I’m calling it Easter: Unplugged. Because who knows when you have a signal in the middle of 800 acres in northern Alabama. And who really cares?

We joined the birds in song as the sun was rising yesterday. Before early morning light, they knew. Mercy was coming.

Mercy was always coming. Long before the Savior died, long before the tomb was filled and quickly emptied, God had promised mercy would renew with every rising sun. News too good to be true for weary, exiled people.

But we straddled a four-wheeler yesterday and slipped into grungy clothes to forward a few creeks and come to the side of a hill. And morning was holy with mercy. Crisp and cool and Christ is risen.

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We prayed. We remembered. We took the juice-filled paper cups and the bites of cracker. We listened to the Word. We sang. And we watched as the sun was rising, as light dispersed the valley’s darkness, as warmth regained her hold on the air.

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Before the dawn we joined creation with bated breath, and just as Faithful promised, Mercy rose with the sun. Only now, mercy is not a concept or a feeling or an undeserved pardon. Mercy is a Person. Mercy is the King.

Mercy is the Son who rises with healing in His wings.

Mercy disperses darkest night of death. Mercy revives the weary, gives hope to us, exiles, and greets us gladly in the morning, in the evening, in the quiet, and in the chaos.

Mercy is new every morning because Jesus broke the dark of night one gloriously quiet sunrise.

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Jesus is Mercy and He has conquered sin, death, and hell, absorbing all their power and shining Light and Love for us, in us.

And the Mondays after holidays are hard. But the Good News for this Monday is how Mercy is more faithful than the sun’s rising. Mercy is the Son, risen.

Mercy has a measure, the cross.
Mercy has a monument, the empty grave.
And Mercy has a name, Jesus Messiah.


We are very excited to welcome Adria to the Dearly Beloved team! You’ll find her here on Mondays several times a month sharing glimpses of God’s work in her heart, and we pray you will see through her words what the Spirit is doing in your own life.

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