Easter’s Middle

It’s a tiny island called Saturday.
Nestled uncomfortably close to its neighbor, Horror.
It’s quiet here. Almost silent.

Trust moved in yesterday. Forced relocation.
Anxious, fragile, and a little scared. Strike that. Really scared.
The lights are off. These curtains are still closed. But someone’s home.
Nervously gripping a hope frayed at the edges.
Foolishly? Maybe. But that’s what you do when that’s all that’s left. Right?
Waiting.

And in the waiting, some lessons learned nowhere else.

Silence and absence aren’t necessarily related.
A few days from now things can look very, very different.
Saturday doesn’t last forever.

So when night comes in a few hours, try to sleep.
Though you can’t yet see it, believe that tomorrow is coming.

And then get up on Sunday.
You won’t be the only one.

1 thought on “Easter’s Middle

  1. “Silence and absence aren’t necessarily related.” What a great line. Sometimes I think all of life feels like the Saturday before Easter – the “now but not yet” interlude. The prevalence of that theme in scripture comforts my heart just about as much as any theme. Thanks for the reminder.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s