It’s “Good Friday,” and I am down a bit, today. Depressed. Out of sorts and disappointed in the way life is going right now. Family health concerns, ongoing travel to see doctors in another part of town, enormous out-of-pocket costs for their unique services, and the grind over months and months without measurable progress have taken their toll.

I should be happy, today, right? I should be in giddy anticipation of the coming days that many around the world are celebrating. Instead I am sulking around, down-in-the-mouth, and generally a downer to be around. Even a celebration I attended last night couldn’t stir me.

Today, as I reflected on my feelings while driving to take care of several errands, it occurred to me that about 1998 years ago (yes, they’ve updated the calendar in case you weren’t aware) a small number of people in the Middle East were a bit down, too. Truthfully, not just a bit down; rather, devastated. Crushed. Listless and hopeless. Their world was in tatters. And their body-mind-soul investments bankrupt. The emptiness was, I’m sure, palatable. Someone more-than-special had died. Shamefully. Someone they loved.

You do not have to embrace the Christian faith to understand the loss and devastation they experienced. Just look at your own life. And if you’ve lived long enough you could expound on a litany of life grievances without even trying: loss of a loved one, loss of health, loss of priceless opportunities, loss of youth, loss of income, loss . . . , loss . . . , loss. And after the initial sting of those moments you had to refocus, realign, and begin again. Either that, or you remained emotionally disabled indefinitely.

But on Good Friday . . . I am reminded that the small group of people affected about 1998 years ago in the Middle East . . . got a surprise. And they were never the same again.

I don’t know if my family is in for a turnaround like that or not. But I do know that three days can make a lot of difference. And in light of that historical event, I for one, am moved to consider re-sizing my problems and disappointments, re-calibrating them in light of that which is to come one day.

This Sunday we will gather with family, grandchildren will be present, eggs will be hidden, good food will be shared, and most importantly – love will be shared. And because of that distant Good Friday many years ago and the events that followed . . . there is the assurance that better days of life are ahead. And not just “better” days; rather, endless days of joy and celebration.

I hope you can read Greek.

Οὐ θέλομεν δὲ ὑμᾶς ἀγνοεῖν, ἀδελφοί, περὶ τῶν κοιμωμένων, ἵνα μὴ λυπῆσθε καθὼς καὶ οἱ λοιποὶ οἱ μὴ ἔχοντες ἐλπίδα. εἰ γὰρ πιστεύομεν ὅτι Ἰησοῦς ἀπέθανεν καὶ ἀνέστη, οὕτως καὶ ὁ θεὸς τοὺς κοιμηθέντας διὰ τοῦ Ἰησοῦ ἄξει σὺν αὐτῷ. Τοῦτο γὰρ ὑμῖν λέγομεν ἐν λόγῳ κυρίου, ὅτι ἡμεῖς οἱ ζῶντες οἱ περιλειπόμενοι εἰς τὴν παρουσίαν τοῦ κυρίου οὐ μὴ φθάσωμεν τοὺς κοιμηθέντας· ὅτι αὐτὸς ὁ κύριος ἐν κελεύσματι, ἐν φωνῇ ἀρχαγγέλου καὶ ἐν σάλπιγγι θεοῦ, καταβήσεται ἀπ’ οὐρανοῦ, καὶ οἱ νεκροὶ ἐν Χριστῷ ἀναστήσονται πρῶτον, ἔπειτα ἡμεῖς οἱ ζῶντες οἱ περιλειπόμενοι ἅμα σὺν αὐτοῖς ἁρπαγησόμεθα ἐν νεφέλαις εἰς ἀπάντησιν τοῦ κυρίου εἰς ἀέρα· καὶ οὕτως πάντοτε σὺν κυρίῳ ἐσόμεθα. Ὥστε παρακαλεῖτε ἀλλήλους ἐν τοῖς λόγοις τούτοις.