Good Friday

My Personal Easter Experience

Some years ago, it was a Good Friday, the Lord made Easter and all the events of it startlingly real for me. From about 6a.m. the Lord took me on a journey with Jesus. I had been a professing Christian all my life but I had probably been saved for about 15 years. I had never had an experience like it before nor since.

Strangely, my two boys, who would have been about 7 and 4, played happily while I received all of this. At least I have no memory of them interrupting me at all that day. I expect they did – I just don’t remember it that’s all.

I woke up that morning to the sounds, sights, and even the smells of Jesus being flogged and mocked – the crown of thorns being thrust down onto His head – the jeers and contempt ringing in His ears – the spittle running down His cheek. It was so startlingly real. The vision faded.

About 2 hours later, I was with Him on the walk to Calvary, or Golgotha – the Skull - the hill of execution. He stumbled along carrying the cross. I tried to reach out and steady His journey – to help Him in some small way but I just couldn’t reach Him. Always those few inches out of reach. I wept for His agony – that cross was so heavy. Then the Romans made someone, I couldn’t see him, take some of the load from Jesus.

A further 2 hours on and I was with Him on Calvary’s hill. I could hear the hammers banging away as they drove the nails home and pinned my Lord to the cross. I could hear the noise – the sounds of expectancy among the crowds. I could hear the soldier’s taunts and mockery. I could feel the pain as they lifted the cross into position and, as they dropped it into place, I reached up and tried to ease the pain of it jarring His limbs, tearing His muscles. Again He was just out of reach.

A further two hours through the day and I was there as He spoke to the thieves either side of him. I was there when He cried out to the Father. I was there as He died. I saw and felt the earthquake. I saw the temple curtain torn in two. I saw graves open and people resurrected. I watched my Lord die for me. For ME !!!

Once more – I wept.

How can I ever forget how and why Jesus died for me? It is etched indelibly upon my memory. I don’t know why the Lord showed me all of this. I don’t know why it was so graphic. I don’t know why I have never shared this before. I don’t know why it was shown to me. It just happened.