I drove to an interview yesterday, a thirty-minute distance scheduled when I was meant to be attached to a machine, percolating into bottles for The Kid’s later consumption. So I brought my gear with me, hooked myself up, and pumped on the highway as I drove. I doubted I was the first woman to have ever done it, and yet the semi-joking thought entered my mind: Is there ANYTHING I won’t do for my child?

And then I remembered Good Friday.

Throughout this turbulent week, this Holy Week, I have been focused on what it has taken to just get by, to survive the emotional onslaught of the letting go process. And all the while, the story of redemption waited for me to remember its greatest scene. To remember and be still, to remember and be alive, to remember and be changed.

Oswald Chambers says on that Friday, this is what happened: “He made redemption the basis of human life.” Redemption. Not effort, or success, or perfection. Redemption–which assures, by its very definition, that there will be mistakes and faults and failures. And that they won’t be the last act.

Letting go of a son. Is there anything he hasn’t done for me?

***PEEPS. I’m now sharing some space with my high school BFF, Kathryn, over at A Bold Grace. Check it out. I’m not saying it’ll get you to the front of the heaven line, but it won’t hurt either.