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Easter Saturday Living; Waiting for Sunday to Come



Easter Sunday; a strange thought this year.

 Celebrating the impermanence of death when it feels permanent and heavy right now to those of us left here, in her wake.

 Celebrating hope, light and victory when those things still feel a long way away on the hard days and the dark days, when grief wraps its bindweed more tightly.

 Celebrating a God for whom nothing is impossible, yet we did not see our impossible become possible.

 Joining in with dancing and joy when tears are more my currency.

 It's easier to face Good Friday. I can relate to a tortured and suffering saviour. He gets it. He's walking it with me.

 I dwell comfortably in Easter Saturday when hope lay dormant and sadness took hold. I belong with the exhausted disciples and the women overcome with emotion and grief.

 I'm not at all sure I am ready for Easter Sunday. Dancing, rejoicing, all-things-come-good. I will stand there one day, feeling it more convincingly.  But for now my life is Friday-Saturday; Sunday stands, a long way off. But I'm glad it's there. The hint of possibility, the glimmer of hope, draws me on. 

Comments

  1. Amy Boucher Pye31 March 2018 at 08:35

    Oh this is so beautifully put, and poignant. I grieve for all that you are going through.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Philip S Davies31 March 2018 at 17:40

    I understand what you're saying and it makes sense to me. I pray for patience, as you wait in hope for Sunday to come. God bless and love.

    ReplyDelete

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