So Many D's

This past Sunday night, Hubby and I were supposed to fly out of Minneapolis, heading to Seattle to visit his nephew for the week. I’d been watching the forecast the whole previous week, and it kept saying that snow was heading our way. But Minneapolis, Minnesota? Where a foot of snow is the same as an inch of snow anywhere else? Surely the eight to ten inches that was forecasted wouldn’t affect our flight.

8:30 Sunday morning, twelve hours before our scheduled takeoff, I got a text from the airline saying our flight was cancelled. What? Twelve hours away! Anything could happen. Come on, people, give it a chance.

Hubby and I reviewed all our options, tried to come up with every possible scenario to save this trip, but it just didn’t feel like it was going to happen.

We were so disappointed. But then my pain jumped up again Monday morning and kept me miserable for three days, so maybe the trip would have been a wash anyway.

Disappointment. But nothing compared to what Jesus’ followers felt on the first Good Friday. Dismay, despair, desolation, dread. So many D’s.

And what about Jesus? Death. An excruciatingly painful death on a cross.

But Sunday is coming.