This is a piece I wrote last year on the Saturday of Easter weekend. It was sweet to reflect on it today and celebrate God's faithfulness to provide in the unknown.
It’s Saturday, the day in between Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. Right now my whole life feels like this Saturday in between. My husband and Ihave a new house that we are waiting to move into. The saving, searching, and decision making are over. The move is just about to happen. My earthly possessions are stacked around me representing the holding pattern of my life. We are waiting to end the old and say hello to the new.
I have always been a bit unclear about what we do on this day. On Maundy Thursday people take communion and wash each other’s feet. On Good Friday we are solemn and reflect on Christ’s death. On Sunday we put on our finest clothes and celebrate. But what about Saturday? It is that weird in between place, a waiting place. I am waiting to wear my new blouse. I am waiting to eat chocolate. I am waiting to gather with the family of believers to worship our Savior. I am waiting to relive the good news: He is Risen! The worst is over and the best is yet to come, it’s just not here yet.
I heard a pastor say that Saturday is a day of doubt. It’s the day we live doubting that Christ will do what he said and doubting that Christ was who he said he was. Saturday is the day we struggle to believe what we knew to be true on Thursday.
Three months ago I resigned from a job I have had for eleven years. It’s not just any job but the founding position of a ministry I put my heart and life into. My partwill come to an end and a new season will begin in just three months. So right now, I am working the Saturday in between kind of work. I am preparing for the new, setting up the person who will come after me, and closing out projects. The agony of the choice to move on is over and the new season is within reach, just not here yet.
Every month I spend two weeks in the in between with a timid hope that I’m pregnant. We live between the disappointment of the negative the month before and the hope of what could be. We believe that new life is possible, we just have not seen it yet. We are caught between doubt and hope.
The transitions I am experiencing were born out of prayer and discernment. We waited on the Lord and wrestled with the implications of pressing on to a new season. I came confidently to the decision to move houses and change careers and pursue motherhood. I was sure of the Lord’s guidance urging me to take courage and trust him. I trusted his provision and leading. And now it is the Saturday between Friday and Sunday. My belongings are packed in boxes around me and yet escrow has not closed. My resignation is in and the clock is ticking and yet I do not have a new job. I don’t even know right now if I am pregnant or not. It is Saturday and I cannot see how this new season, that I was so confident about, will come to pass. It is Saturday butI remember the comfort of being together with my people on Thursday. I remember the nearness of Christ, explaining to me once again, his plan. His love was so real on Thursday. It bolstered my confidence and faith.
I remember Friday. It was a time of confusion and wrestling. I struggled to keep my eyes on the Christ as I tried to understand what all of these changes would mean. I felt the pain of loss. I experienced the anger and sadness of separation from those I have walked with for years. I saw the grief and shock on the faces of people I love. And like the disciples, I wanted to bolt on Friday.
And now it is Saturday. I am not sure what to do today. My gut reminds me of the faith this journey has produced. My mind reminds me of Christ’s promises to bring about a new, abundant season. And yet my heart feels fragile, unsure even. It is waiting. Waiting to see if it will all pan out. Waiting to see what will come to fruition. There is a faint expectancy that salvation and new creation are in fact coming. We will have to see what Sunday brings.