Good morning. It’s April 18th, 2025 and today is Good Friday. And on this day, I’m reminded that God doesn’t always prevent suffering—but He redeems it. What looked like defeat was actually deliverance. What seemed like failure was divine fulfillment. Even in pain, His purpose was unfolding...
Today's Reading:
1 Samuel 20,21; Psalm 34; Matthew 5
Scripture
“He protects all his bones, not one of them will be broken.” (Psalms 34:20 NIV)
Observation
David wrote this after a close call—when God had rescued him just in time. It was a song of survival. But what David couldn’t have known is that these words would point to something far greater.
A thousand years later, on a cross outside Jerusalem, Jesus—God’s Son—would hang between two criminals. Roman soldiers came to break His legs, as was the custom. But they found He was already gone. So they didn’t break a single bone.
It seems like a small detail. But in God’s story, no detail is small. This was fulfillment. Strategic. Intentional. The Passover lamb’s bones were never to be broken. Jesus, the Lamb of God, became the final sacrifice.
His body was pierced, but His bones remained whole as a sign that God’s plan hadn’t failed—it was being fulfilled…If we only focus on the pain, we miss the plan. And the plan was always redemption.
Application
God never promised we’d be pain-free. But He did promise His presence. He promised purpose.
Jesus wasn’t spared the suffering—but even in death, the Father’s hand never let go. That gives me confidence. Because even when I don’t understand what God is doing, I can trust that He’s still holding every detail.
Good Friday reminds me: this wasn’t random. This wasn’t chaos. It was compassion. It was the cross.
And so today, I simply say what words will never fully express:
Thank You for the cross.
Prayer
Lord, I pause… and I say:
Thank You for the cross.
Thank You that wrath passed over me, because it fell on You.
Thank You for being pierced—but not broken—so that I, though broken, could be made whole.
Thank you for the cross.
Amen.
—Chris Kiriakos