During a recent nature therapy session, I came across a stick that caught my attention. It was nothing special at first glance — just a piece of wood, covered in mud, broken and weathered by the elements. Still, I felt drawn to it and decided to bring it home.

Over the next day, I carefully began to clean it, knocking off the layers of mud and debris. As the dirt fell away, something surprising was revealed: beneath the rough exterior, the wood was tinted red.

I couldn’t help but think of Good Friday — of the cross, and of what Jesus did for us.

On Good Friday, we remember the brutal reality of the cross. It was rough. It was splintered. It was a symbol of suffering and shame. And yet, through that very suffering, came the greatest gift: the redemption of the world.

That simple stick, once dirty and overlooked, now speaks to my heart. Beneath the brokenness, there was something more.
Beneath the suffering, there was hope.
Beneath the bloodstained wood, there was love poured out for us all.

The words of Isaiah 53:5 come to mind:

“But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed.”

Today, may we pause to consider the weight of Good Friday.
Not just the suffering, but the astonishing love that held Jesus to the cross.
Not just the pain, but the healing that was won through His wounds.

The cross reminds us that even in the places that seem most broken, most hopeless, redemption is already at work. Even the dirt-covered, splintered places of our own lives are not beyond His reach.

On this Good Friday, may we stand in awe.
May we remember.
May we find hope even in the shadows — for Sunday is coming.