Strict//EN" ""> EAGLES' REST: WELL, IT <i>WAS</i> A <b>GOOD</b> FRIDAY

Friday, April 14, 2017


I recall the day I had my first knee replacement surgery.

As I recall, it was a Monday. Now, surgery is surgery. This one was preceded by Versed, which always eases the ride into the O.R. Then Propofol took over, and I didn't even dream

Just slept.

Woke up for the usual groggy amusement of the Recovery Room, and then back to the private room and the family.

The really unpleasant part of it all was the pain. I got to the room in mid-day, and the knee hurt a lot, when the anesthetic wore off. Sure, the nurses tried the usual meds, but morphine and acetaminophen have no effect whatsoever on pain, in me. The nurses didn't believe me, and didn't want to give me anything else after they gave me that stuff.

I was in extreme pain all night. I slept not one wink, all night.

Next day, they finally gave me a pain-killer that worked, and I finally got some sleep.

Four years later, I had the other knee replaced.

Now, many years later, the knees are fine and I am sure glad I had the surgery. Despite the absolute agony and the disruption of the surgeries, everything came out just fine.

So's my family! I can recall when walking was painful and stairs were out of the question, that I wasn't a lot of use to anybody around the house.


There's little doubt that Jesus' pain during the scourging and the crucifixion were excruciating. Much much worse than you or I have or will ever experience. I get that it was monumental. Considering God's economy, I would also guess that, as much worse as Jesus' experience was, than any we'll ever endure here, that the beauty and the wonder and the profit from the experience would be much greater than anything we'll ever do, or endure.

I look back on the surgery date ... for both of my knees ... and recall the pain that went with both experiences. But that's not the overriding thought; that's assigned to the fact that I'm 78, had knees that were totally worn out, and today, they're absolutely no problem.

My hips, neck, back and shoulders are all complaining loudly every day about the arthritis they contain, but not my knees!

Such, it is, with the Crucifixion. As terrible as it was, it became wonderful on the following Sunday. And it still is, yet today.

I believe Jesus would say the same thing about that first occurrence of the Friday that was Good, even when nobody else on earth knew it.


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