I hear this over and over, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming!”
It‘s a lovely sentiment and, it is true.
But I fear it is a shortcut. We rush headlong into Sunday. What would we find if we paid attention to Saturday?
The day between the death of Jesus and His Resurrection.
In between here and now
Saturday, the in-between day, the here and now of the not yet.
There are many of us there already.
We are living in unprecedented times, in the middle of a global pandemic. This alone brings all kinds of loss and uncertainty.
For others, too, the diagnosis has come, and it is not good.
And there are broken relationships, those who have sat face to face, now sit back to back. No longer speaking.
Children who have rebelled, wander in a land faraway.
Sickness or illness has visited and refused to leave. It lingers and you grow weary. You long for relief.
Someone we loved has passed from this life into the next and we are in the wilderness, looking for water.
Finances are tight, and you wonder – when will I be able to pay the next bill?
Your child is in the hospital and you don’t know which way it will go.
You struggle with anxiety and depression and you wonder if you will ever be glad again?
It is as if we are holding our breath.
Are we allowed to be sad, confused, and afraid? Is it okay grieve our losses? Do I have to suck it up and pretend that everything is okay?
Day of mourning
Saturday, is the day to mourn, to wonder, to think that nothing makes sense.
Will it ever be all right? The in-between day.
Has hope really died after all?
In Jesus’ time, though He had spoken to them of Resurrection, they didn’t for the life of them put it together. To truly understand what He meant.
All they really knew was their shock, bereavement, disbelief? What on earth are they to do now?
They did not know what we know now.
They had no certainty of Resurrection.
The treasures of darkness
Today, give yourself permission to be present to the now and the not yet. To the wound of loss, the death of a certain hope.
Learn to be present to the sorrow of death. As you grieve, allow your heart to open, to soften. Let compassion grow for those who suffer now, who have no answers.
Be kind to yourself, too.
What you have suffered and do suffer matters.
Discover the treasures hidden in the darkness of Saturday.
Today, stay in Saturday. It’s okay, really.
Sunday is coming.