GOOD FRIDAY: A Counselor's Reflection on the Cross

Good Friday is the day we remember Jesus’ crucifixion—His suffering, sacrifice, and death on our behalf.

It’s a day that holds both sorrow and sacredness. Sorrow, because it confronts us with the reality of our sin and suffering. Sacredness, because it reminds us of God’s ultimate act of love: Jesus, the perfect sacrifice, willingly taking upon Himself our guilt, shame, and brokenness.

“He was pierced for our transgressions,

He was crushed for our iniquities;

The punishment that brought us peace was on him, And by his wounds we are healed.” — Isaiah 53:5

As a counselor, I sit with people in their deepest pain. Grief. Betrayal. Shame. Depression. Guilt. So often, the stories I hear echo the cries of the soul: Am I too broken? Can this ever be healed? Is there hope for someone like me?

Good Friday gives us a resounding answer: Yes.

Jesus didn’t just sympathize with human suffering—He entered into it. He felt every ounce of agony, abandonment, injustice, and shame. The cross didn’t just break His body—it bore the weight of soul-deep sorrow and spiritual agony.

And He carried it willingly. For you. For me. For all the stories that feel too far gone.

The Counselor and the Cross

In counseling, we often talk about holding space—creating a safe, sacred environment for others to process pain. Jesus, on the cross, did just that on the grandest scale. He held the weight of the world’s brokenness in His body and made a way for healing.

He bore:

• The shame you carry quietly.

• The guilt you wish you could undo.

• The wounds no one sees.

• The grief that never fully goes away.

  
  

Good Friday doesn’t minimize your pain. It doesn’t skip ahead to Easter joy without sitting in the sorrow. And that’s what makes it beautiful. Because it meets us in the depths.

The cross tells us:

🕊️ You are not beyond redemption.

🕊️ Your story is not too broken.

🕊️ There is hope—and it begins at the foot of the cross.

Before the Stone Rolls Away...

Don’t rush past the weight of Good Friday. Let yourself feel it. Let yourself grieve. Sit with the sorrow. Acknowledge the pain. Not just Jesus’ pain—but your own. The cross was never meant to erase our humanity, but to meet us in it.

And then, let yourself give thanks. Because in His death, we find life. In His wounds, we find healing.

Take a moment today to reflect:

• What pain am I carrying that I haven’t invited Jesus into?

• What lie of shame or guilt do I need to lay at the cross?

• What does it mean that “by His wounds we are healed”—for me?

  
  

As you reflect, may you remember: the cross was never the end of the story. But it was the turning point of history.