Good Friday

It’s Good Friday. The kids are in bed, and I have a quiet hour or two before I need to pick Sora up from a 10-hour swing shift. She worked a little “overtime”, starting an hour and a half early to allow a Filipina midwife who was supervising the previous shift to leave early and attend Good Friday services.

In the morning I went to church to gave my talk on atonement in Luke at UCRC. The streets were impressively deserted by traffic; it almost seemed like North America at non-rush hour times. After my talk, I enjoyed a men’s group study on growth in godliness and the pitfalls of legalism and antinomianism, taught by Pastor Vic. Then I came home and took the girls to the clinic with their mother. They are quite an amusing sight in their kid-sized scrubs and backpacks, marching into the clinic like they know what they’re doing. (Don’t be fooled by their confidence: sure, they’ve been there before, and they know the drill, but they are not midwives, scrubs notwithstanding.)

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