Growing up in church, I came to love Good Friday. That may seem strange to you, to love the day that we remember Jesus’s crucifixion. But let me explain.

At the church I grew up in, the youth were in charge of the Good Friday Service. Being empowered to help design and lead a worship service as a high schooler was honestly one of the greatest gifts my church could have given me. After all, ten years later, I went on to serve for two years in a ministry where my sole responsibility was worship planning.

But there’s another reason I’ve come to love Good Friday. In worship services, Bible studies, and Christian circles, we do a lot of Easter-like celebrating. In fact, you may have heard that “every day is Easter for the Christian.” And it is. But every day doesn’t feel like Easter for the Christian.

The older I’ve gotten and the more I’ve had the privilege of listening to other people’s stories, the more I’ve realized that often, our days feel more like Good Friday than Easter Sunday.

Waking up in pain yet again because of a chronic illness. Crying because you miss a spouse who’s gone on to glory. Wondering if your child will ever make good choices.

Often, our days feel more like Good Friday than Easter Sunday. That doesn’t mean we don’t live without hope. We live with the hope that our bodies will be made new. We live with the hope that we will be reunited with those who profess Jesus as Savior and Lord. We live with the hope that Jesus still works miracles in people’s lives.

But the fact of the matter remains: often, our days feel more like Good Friday than Easter Sunday.

Over the years, my youth group did a lot of different variations of a Good Friday service. But one worship element continues to stick with me more than a decade later.

At the end of one of the the Good FridaysServices, we played a video with the tagline: “It’s Friday. But Sunday’s a’comin.”

I loved the video. It was dramatic, suspenseful, and a reminder of why Good Friday is “Good.” And we need to be reminded, as Frederick Buechner said, that “the worst thing isn’t the last thing.”

But I’ve wondered if we subtly communicated a message that wasn’t helpful. I’ve wondered if we subtly communicated that we just need to rush past Good Friday to Easter Sunday.

“Jesus died,” we said. “But let’s hurry to Easter Sunday! Don’t think sad thoughts. Think happy thoughts!”

I’ve learned in life that, in the middle of our deepest grief, we can rarely rush on to Easter Sunday. Paradoxically, we can know that the worst thing is never the last thing and yet not be able to celebrate like it’s Easter Sunday. When our days feel more like Good Friday than Easter Sunday, sometimes we just need to live in the grief of Good Friday.

This is why I love Good Friday: it’s a day when we remember that Jesus and His followers know what grief and pain are like. There will be time to celebrate Easter. In fact, there’s an entire season of the church calendar called Eastertide. But, especially for those who want to rush on to Easter Sunday, it’s really helpful to sit in the grief of Good Friday. It’s good for us to learn how to grieve, to live in the “already, not yet” of knowing that all things will be made new… but not yet.

So this Good Friday, may we not forget the hope of the glory of Easter Sunday. But may we sit in the grief of Good Friday. May we know our Lord Christ as one who was well-acquainted with grief. And may we learn how to sit with our own grief, not rushing to Easter Sunday, but recognizing Christ’s presence in our Good Fridays.