Me: It's Good Friday on Friday.
Youngest: What's Good Friday?
Me: It's the day Jesus died.
Youngest: Jesus died on April 2?
* * *
I don't know why the encounter made me laugh, but it did. And then I had to start thinking about a tombstone for Jesus. [Were He, you know, in need of a tombstone.] And then I had to start thinking about His birthday. [As if, you know, He was born on Christmas Day.] And then I had to start doing the math to determine His actual year of death. [Had He, you know, actually died on April 2.]
Happy Good Friday to y'all.
My remembrance of Good Friday? It was the day of my dad's first brain surgery. A friend of his said to me, "That's a good sign, his having the surgery on Good Friday." My response to him? "Why? That's the day Jesus died."
He did survive that first surgery, my dad. Although he was dead in about three months anyway.
Okay, this lighthearted post has taken a turn to the darkness. Back to unicorns and butterflies, guys. Look! Here's a butterfly we saw at Girl Scout Camporee last weekend.