The day in between.

The Chaos. Taunting. Jeering. Nailing. Piercing. Blood and water flowing.
“It is finished.” And bowing his head, Jesus handed over the spirit (John 19:30).

Silence resounding. Birds chirping. Green moss growing on the rock where I sit; waiting; praying. A new tomb where He now laid his head. A stone rolled over the entrance. An overwhelming sense of loss and grief fills our hearts and churches. The others have gone to their homes but I sit and wait. What else can I do? His last request was to ‘watch and pray’. He then said the hour had come, but it must still be arriving. There must be more than this. Right?

Bushes rustled. Voices grumbling. Roman soldiers pushed through. They gripped their swords at my sight and poised for a fight.
I did not move.
Perhaps it was the stream of dry tears down my face or my tired eyes and long face. They relaxed their muscles and stood down. They kept a distance.
“Go home!” one commanded sternly.
I did not move.
“Or else!” the other sneered ripping out his sword.
I stood and walked home. They flanked the tomb.
My heart broke as I walked away from my Lord. But my soul felt oddly re-assured.

The hour was still arriving.

Holy Saturday is a day of anticipation. The Lord is laid in the tomb on Good Friday and it won’t be until Saturday night — daybreak, that we discover the empty tomb and celebrate the resurrection. Where are we during this time? What occupies our minds as we wait and pray? In many ways it is a call to simply be with the Lord in a quiet and humble way. Words are not necessary, but simply our presence. This is not exclusive to Holy Saturday. At any time and any season we are invited to simply sit and be with the Lord to listen and respond.

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