When All is Darkness | Saturday

light in the darkness <3

For as yet they knew not the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead.   // john 20:9 

And when Jesus had cried with a loud voice, he said, Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit: and having said thus, he gave up the ghost. ...

And all his acquaintance, and the women that followed him from Galilee, stood afar off, beholding these things.
// luke 23:46, 49 

And she went and told them that had been with him, as they mourned and wept.  // mark 16:10  

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. // psalm 30:5b

It's Saturday.

The in-between day, wedged between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. It has no official title (that I know of). Yet it holds such meaning and symbolism.

On that first Easter weekend, Christ had been crucified and laid to rest in the borrowed tomb. We're not told much of how the disciples and followers spent the time between the Crucifixion and Resurrection. But they certainly weren't living life as normal.

They were hurting and broken. They were grieving. Their very souls were crushed.

Peter was struggling, personally, with the knowledge that he'd audibly denied his Lord...thrice. The group must've also felt betrayed by Judas, one who they'd counted a friend and brother, yet he had sold their Lord by a deceptive kiss for thirty pieces of silver.

In a sense, they were waiting, too. But did they know what they were waiting for?

He had spoken of a home with Him someday, of eternity, of a Comforter. But they didn’t understand the meaning of these words yet. All they knew was their Lord—the Promised One, their everything—had been brutally killed before their eyes. Life as they’d known it had ceased, crashed, halted.

All their hope—gone.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

How often, in our darkest moments, do we cry out to God that we don’t understand? Maybe it's not even that we're doubting His goodness or rebelling against His will—we just don't know why it's happening. We want to understand. We want to comprehend. We want to be able to make sense of things. We want answers.

But you know, it's okay if things don't make sense to us. It's okay if we feel lost in the darkness, cracked and broken and crying out to the One who always hears. It's okay if answers elude us. It's okay if all we have the strength to do is cry out to Him, take it moment by moment, and make it through one day at a time.

It's okay.

Because He is good, no matter what.

Because He is with us, every single heartbeat.

Because this pain won't last forever.

In the wise words of my friend Mikayla, “Sunday’s on the way.”

We can believe that. We can rest in that.

The light will break thru. Darkness will not win. 

Even when I don't see, I still believe. 

what does this day of waiting mean to you?