My wife took the beautiful photo that inspired this painting.

There was something about this dandelion that captivated me.

He’s reaching the end of the line. He is weary, but remains proud and steadfast. Some called him a weed, disrupting the status quo and infecting the neighborhood. But he knows the truth. He has run his race, and is now ready to give it all away, to multiply himself by scattering the seeds in order to bring forth new life. And in the midst of his sacrifice, with the sun setting on his last day, light shines through as a symbol of the grace within. 

I call this piece “Good Friday” because it reminds me of that seemingly dark Friday, centuries ago, when all hope seemed lost and that evil had won.

As I write this, the United States is in turmoil over the results of the Presidential election, which went all 2020 on us. Because of course it did. Most of the polls were way wrong, but one thing is certain: it is a nation more divided than either side probably realized. 

I think it’s fair to say that both sides hoped for a decisive result and this is everyone’s worst-case scenario. And yet here we are. Regardless of the outcome, half the country will be elated and the other will be plunged into despair. What intrigues me is how thin a line it is between them.

As I think back to that original Good Friday, I consider how preposterous it would have seemed for anyone who lived through its heartbreak to hear it labeled as “good.” Such a declaration would seem ridiculous, possibly even blasphemous. It sure didn’t seem good at the time. But for those who believed, it actually turned out better than good.

During times of great uncertainty, I find it helpful to return my attention to things I know are true. I don’t know about you, but I feel like I may be able turn pro at this by the end of 2020, I’ve had to do it so often.

Let’s starrt here: I know that the sun rose today. 

I know that there’s a good chance it will rise again tomorrow.

I know that I could make a list of 100 things to be grateful for and it would remain incomplete.

I know that, contrary to the media narrative, the things we have in common are infinitely greater than that which divides us. 

I know that the quality of my life has almost nothing to do with who happens to be President.

I know that I am not called to worry about things I can’t control.

I know that I am called to focus on the things I can.

I know that asking the question, “How can I help?” is the best place to start.

And, if I’m honest, I also know that nothing about the political climate we find ourselves in seems good.

And yet, I am confident that this moment – and indeed, this year – will prove to be Good, in the end. I grant that may seem ridiculous, perhaps even blasphemous.

A big part of what will make it so is how we choose to respond in this moment. We can have our say by seeking to heal divisions that so deeply divide us. Not by trying to win others to our way of thinking, but through what always works: kindness, humility, and love.  

And by trusting that the same God who called light forth from the darkness is still in control and is working all things…for good.