Now my soul is troubled. What should I say – Father, save me from this hour? But that is why I came to this hour. John 12:27
While traversing the surface of life covered with hills and valleys, I’ve experienced “rock bottom” many times. Each perceived a new limit, assumed to be the absolute lowest. It is impossible, however, for me to distinguish between a local or global minimum. Only a full view of the landscape can reveal the true nature of a state.
But from the perspective of any bottom – the only way out is up. This ascent requires energy gained from an external source or transferred through heat and collisions. A journey that can be delightful when marked by the warmth of a gentle touch, or painful when scarred by the sting of a hot tempered blow. Only a handful will experience a view from the top or height attainable in the time allotted. Outliers striving beyond their limits to achieve a goal, follow a vision, pursue an ambition knowing the effort will be rewarded by a glimpse of grandeur forever etched in their mind, inscribed in their heart, engraved in their soul.
The awe of an hour, revealed in context of a troubling question, rationalized in hope of a purposeful plan, doubted in view of deep personal pain. Such was the road to the cross. Palm branches fashioned into whips, loyal followers converted into betrayers, royal blessings turned into crucifixion. A Friday that was only “good” in view of the true meaning of the word. Complete, whole, lacking nothing – a perfection echoed from the beginning and finding fulfillment in an end.