Good Friday

The mournful calling of a lone dove echoed in the early foggy morning. Opening my kitchen blinds I gasped; the nest was empty. Rushing to the door I saw the evidence I hoped not to see, broken eggs and feathers lay scattered on the ground. Hope dashed in the morning light. My hope that the dove family was a sign that we were out of the Valley of the Shadow of Death ended in a whimper as I cried out to John...another death...too many this year. The symbolism of last nights killing was not lost on me, last night it was Passover and the angel of death visited us again. Then, a vision of the priest at the temple in Jerusalem accepting the dove, the prescribed sacrifice for God to cleanse His people from sin. Another vision: our little dove giving her life to protect her family hoping to bring about new life, and now today, Good Friday, the day I remember that Jesus Christ died for love, to cleanse our sins. The little dove precious to God, Jesus his son precious to Him, and His beloved mankind ransomed when He laid down His Life. There is my hope, a hope that sustains me in this valley.