It’s Holy Saturday. Can you fathom what the first Holy Saturday felt like? Miserable. Aching. Full of grief and despair. Broken. Agonizing. Desperate. Full of questions and doubt. Confusing. Dark.
Quiet.
But when I reflect on the deepest meaning of my walk with Jesus, today is a beautiful summary. We wait for the hope we are promised while we wander our way through the darkness. We are still when we since God is listening, and we desperately await His response. We are quizzical and search for His truth amidst the enemy’s doubt. We wonder why God is so silent when we are pouring out our hearts to Him?
Is He there? Is He listening?
The answer is always Yes! God’s silence does not equal God’s disappearance.
I have been there. I have been in the dark, lonely, painful, wrecked places. I have laid on the bathroom floor in a fetal position, sobbing and wondering where is God? I have awakened from a light sleep, only to start crying all over, again. Where is the relief? Where are the promises?
I have been there, sweet friend. I have been there and I have shed the tears and screamed the screams and asked God where He was while my Michala and I stood before Him, suffering?
But His silence did not mean He was ignoring me. His silence was preparation of what was to come.
I finally stood in front of a sunset. I awoke in a bed with peace and safety.
God’s silence during the darkness never means He is absent. It means He is preparing a great burst of light.
Mary thought God was silent, too. Mary and the disciples were grieving. But God wasn’t finished.
God was about to reveal the most beautiful sign of hope our world has ever seen.
Holy Saturday reminds me the silence in the darkness fills my heart with hope. There was an inconceivable burst of light about to change everything ...