- Matthew, 27.50
Good Friday is a good day for laying the dead to rest. Oh, no body has died, no body I know. Just pieces of spirit.
These past few weeks have been tumultuous. I've batted at so many bricks thrown at me that my arms are taut and tired. I seek the solace of some metaphorical tomb carved out of rock and set apart.
I've striven so hard and for so long to belong to a world that will not have me. That was foolish of me to try to do. I'm not a joiner. I'm a separate, an outsider, an observer. But I started to care for things that neither mattered nor, in their turn, valued my concern. A bitter mistake.
For a time, I forgot my place. I recollect it now and will return to it. For now, for me, it's time to rest and let my spirit purge the poisons from its system.
Don't feel sad for me, nor pity me. This is not a time for sadness. Rather, it's a common thing, unremarkable, and rarely noticed ... this dying thing. We die in many ways each day, but the soul rejuvenates.
Resurrection always follows crucifixion.