Good Friday...hmmm?

Last night we had a Good Friday service at our church.  Levi told me earlier in the week that they were adding video to go behind the scripture reading.  I heard him and acknowledged him but didn't really think about it too awful much. Our Friday was busy.  I took the kids for their Easter pics at a studio about 40 minutes away.  Our appointment was at 11.  They called us back at 11:45 and we didn't leave with our pics until 1:45.  It was crazy.  We met Levi for lunch and then he took the kids home while I finished up Easter shopping.
The next thing I knew, it was time for the Good Friday service.  We had childcare for the kids but parents were encouraged to keep their kids in if they thought they could handle it.  Well, I thought Addy could handle being in a somber service, no problem.  I didn't realize that when Levi said video was going to be behind the scripture reading that it would be scenes from the Passion of the Christ.  And just to be fair, the scenes that were shown, were NOT the graphic beatings and crucifixion scenes.   We were fine until the scene where the soldiers and pharisees were spitting and hitting Jesus.  Addy started to cry.  She grabbed my hand and covered her eyes.  I kept my hand there until the service was over.  They showed a couple of other scenes that showed Jesus beat up with his face bloody and bruised.  They showed Him on the cross with the slashes across his body.  She didn't see any of that but cried anyway. As I sat there, I began to get really mad.  If I'm honest, I was upset with Levi because he knew what was coming and thought she was ready.  I did not agree.  After the service, he took her in his office and hugged her tight and talked to her about what she saw (and heard).  We've talked to our kids a lot this Easter season about the resurrection and why it is so special.
In hind sight, I think she was a few years too young to be in the service.   That's a lot for a child to handle. It's a lot for an adult to handle.  As I reflected on my anger, it hit me that those who loved Jesus witnessed his brutal murder.  They stood and watched, helpless to do anything about it.  I have never thought of Good Friday that way.  I have thought about Mary and her sorrow and utter pain that she must have felt watching her son die.  I haven't thought about the bystanders with children who witnessed his death.  It brought a new level of emotion for me on Good Friday.
When we got in the car, A asked if next year she could go back with the kids instead.  Levi and I both told her definitely she could.
A is a tender spirit and very compassionate.  I hope she never loses that.  I hope she always hurts when others hurt. I hope she always hugs and loves on people.  I hope she always lives her life keeping Christ first.  I'm so proud of that little one.