Back in the eighties when our family vacationed regularly on Sanibel Island, we spent many an Easter weekend in this tropical paradise. As I think back, one particular Good Friday stands out as exceptional.

My folks were with us, and Mom was a champion at finding new ways to teach old truth.  We had five children at the time, and rather than find a church and clean everyone up to attend a Good Friday service, she proposed a new idea. “Why don’t each of us head outdoors and hunt for something that represents Good Friday. It can be anything you want but has to be something you find. Later we’ll sit together and listen to the explanation of each item.”

And off we went in all directions, hunting for the elements of the crucifixion story on the beach or in the bushes of Sanibel. Our church service, held later at the dining table in our rented condo, was creative and meaningful. Everyone participated, and there were no duplicates of items found.

One person brought grasses braided into a whip, signifying the beating Jesus suffered. Another found a piece of driftwood, which he explained represented the cross Jesus was nailed onto. Dad went deeper with a stalk of sea wheat and an explanation of John 12:24, “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”

One of the boys brought a snake-like shell casing representing Satan the serpent who wanted to see Jesus get killed. And Mom brought a thorny branch, nearly crying as she described the crown of thorns pressed into Jesus’ head.

Although this worship service occurred more than twenty years ago, I can still picture the scene and remember the joy I felt watching and listening to our children as they remembered the death of their Savior.

Tonight I’m thinking again about that dark day two thousand years ago that unlocked eternal paradise to every human being who believes Jesus died for his or her sin . Mary asked our four girls, ages 19, 19, 21 and 22, a thought-provoking question: “What was in the cup that Jesus begged not to have to drink?”

After some discussion, we all agreed that if we looked into that cup, it would look differently to each of us, filled with the repulsive brew of our own sins. Yet the truth of the crucifixion is that Jesus drained the cup dry. Good Friday wasn’t good at all for him, but it was of the highest possible good for us.

“He fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. ‘Abba, Father,’ he said. ‘Everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will’.” (Mark 14:35b-36)

Thinking back to the excruciating days of Nate’s cancer diagnosis and our first realization things might end up badly, I wasn’t sure what direction our conversations should take. Although the words “terminal” and “fatal” had been directly spoken to us by knowing doctors, it took a while for Nate and I to talk along those lines.

One of the first things he said that let me know he was beginning to absorb the brevity of his life was, “Could you find some verses you think would be good for me right now? Write them down so I can keep them with me.”

Happy to comply, I prayed and pleaded with God to give me exactly the Scriptures Nate needed. Then I typed up eight passages and printed them out, and Nate gratefully accepted the two pages. The next day I noticed he’d looked them all up and written down who the speaker was in each group of verses.

True to his word, he kept the Scriptures with him, reading and re-reading the supernaturally powerful words of God. Although I couldn’t imagine how dispiriting it would be to be told you were going to die soon, fear must have continually hovered at the edges of his mind. No human being could have delivered what he needed, but God knew precisely what to tell him.

(Excerpts from the pages):

“The eyes of the Lord watch over those who do what is right.”

“I prayed to the Lord and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears.”

“God said, my grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.”

“Be strong… The Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

“Call to me and I will answer you and show you great and mighty things.”

“The Lord is your keeper… He will keep your soul.

Pastor Colin Smith had counseled Nate that in the beginning he’d be surrounded by a large circle of co-workers, friends, relatives, doctors. Then the circle would narrow to just our family members, and finally it would be only him, alone with God.

And that’s exactly how it went.

In his final hours, Nate was unconscious. Hospice nurses couldn’t understand how he hung onto life 48 hours after they were sure he would have succumbed, given the condition of his body. But I believe God’s Spirit kept him alive during those unexplainable hours in order to conduct important business with Nate’s soul. Nate was being freed from fear, being given grace and strength, being told the answers to his questions and being kept safe from soul-harm, exactly as the verses had assured him God would do.

When Nate was ready and the time came to slip out of his emaciated body and into a glorified one, God carefully watched over the process of his “going out” of this world and his “coming into” the next, just as he said he would.

A few days after he died, I was cleaning off the small table by his lazy-boy where he’d kept his Post-it notes, his pens, his newspapers and other important things. There I found the two well-worn pages of verses.

“He will guard your going out and your coming in, from this time forth and forever.” (Psalm 121:8)

People who love the beach fall into two camps: ocean-lovers and lake-lovers. The choice seems to be rooted in childhood, as most things are, whether we end up loving one or the other. I’m a lake person, but that’s because I grew up on Lake Michigan’s shores.

{Before continuing, know that this blog might make you ocean-lovers angry. Please put your sandals on, set your pre-conceived ideas aside and let’s practice being open-minded. At least you should be.}

Ocean people can’t believe anyone would prefer a small lake over a mighty ocean, but they haven’t seen the size of a giant like Lake Michigan. For all practical purposes, it looks exactly like an ocean. Its horizon stretches indefinitely, and no one can see across to the other side.

Oceans have a great deal more wildlife living in them than lakes do, but that’s not necessarily an advantage. Who needs sting rays with their fatal barbs feeding in the shallow water when you’re trying to wade? And who wants crabs and crawfish snapping at your toes? Here on Sanibel Island today, a vacationing man fishing in waist-deep water caught a baby shark. It was non-threatening, despite a full set of double-teeth, but no one asked my question: “Was its mother nearby?”

Lake Michigan may not readily yield enough big fish for dinner, but there are none that can hurt swimmers, either. Floating out deep with arms and legs dangling over the edge of a blow-up raft is no problem. Although there are some big fish in the lake, they hang in water so deep they can hardly be caught and would never bother a swimmer.

And how about the ocean’s salt-factor? What fun is it to swim in water that hurts your eyes? Last time I swam in an ocean I came out only to find salt crystallizing on my skin, then tightening, then itching. Being in need of a shower immediately after a swim to wash off the experience doesn’t make any sense.

Lake Michigan’s water is so clean a person can drink it, and we have. A swim leaves you refreshed, and if someone got lost 25 miles from shore, dehydration wouldn’t be a problem. In the ocean, a drink would only increase thirst, not to mention make you go crazy. It wouldn’t taste very good, either.

I can think of only one advantage oceans have over lakes: better surfing. Unless body surfing qualifies, Lake Michigan swimmers are at a distinct disadvantage. Ocean-lovers win on that score. Their waves can be massive with the power that surfers crave. (I won’t mention they’re so powerful they might kill you.)

Ocean-lovers point to the beauty of their shells. We lake-lovers see just as much splendor in our stones. Although ocean beaches claim to have the silkiest sand in the world made from ground-down shells, if you walk too close to the water line, you’d better have your sandals on or you might get wounded by stepping on a broken shell. Lake Michigan sand may not be silky, but it squeaks when you walk on it, and its rounded stones would never cut a bare foot. The sand also curves to your body shape when its time for a beach nap, unlike ocean sand that’s hard enough to bear up under the wheels of a car.

So, all you ocean-lovers, don’t get mad; just get even, and make your case! And as you do…..
”Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy.” (Hebrews 12:14)