I have a distinct memory from childhood. I recall asking a teacher at school why on earth Good Friday was called 'good' when Jesus who only did good was crucified on a cross. I think my teacher did her best to answer my question but to be honest, her answer has not stuck with me. Now I am all grown up and I understand the meaning of Good Friday and I know how the story ends. But today is Friday. Today, I am reminded that we live in a sad, broken world, albeit one that whispers the beauty and hope of Sunday. There is no getting away from Lament. Suffer and endure it we must. And we hold on, sometimes by the very tips of our fingers, barely making it. Family, friends and faith in the one who rose again carry us towards Sunday. We may feel it will never come. We know it will.