There was only one Black Friday.

It was not the day after Thanksgiving.

It was not a day when self-oriented consumers

bumped into

climbed over

pushed into

screamed at

and hated the other consumers who were

in their way.

No, all the action of the one Black Friday

was on a hill of death

outside the city

where three souls hung on crosses,

two criminals and the Messiah

doing what he came to do

and what the world was desperate for.

That Friday the world went dark

the Father turned his back

graves opened

the veil ripped in two

the Son carried the Father’s anger.

Death was offered so life could be given.

Darkness fell so light would shine.

Payment made

freedom given

redemption accomplished.

There was only one Black Friday.

No need to shop anymore for a

Savior.

By Paul David Tripp