Saturday was silent.
Surely, it was through….
I often think about that Saturday between the crucifixion and the resurrection, when Jesus was in the tomb. I believe that must’ve been the saddest day in history. I can’t even imagine what His followers experienced during those hours. Their friend was dead, but it was so much more than that.
The Way was dead.
The Truth was dead.
The Life was dead.
Love was dead.
Hope was dead.
Friday was devastating; Saturday was hopeless. Imagine how it must have felt when “God with us” was no longer with us!
Some months after my husband died, I found myself in a bit of a “Saturday” season. The trauma and initial devastation of my loss started to lift and hopelessness hovered like a vulture. It screamed at me that all was lost and my future had died with my husband. I even started to believe it.
But ever so softly and persistently, the sweet Holy Spirit whispered Psalm 30:5 in my ear.
“Weeping endures for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”
Joy? Friday’s worst had happened. It was now Saturday, and God seemed silent. All of my plans, dreams and hopes for the future seemed forever lost. Joy seemed impossible.
But God.
Since when has impossible ever stopped You?
It didn’t stop Him then, and it isn’t going to stop Him now. Friday was dark and Saturday is silent, but Sunday is coming. For the despondent disciples. For me. For you.
God is still here with us. He is still on His throne. He is still writing our stories into His story. This plot twist was no surprise to Him. Our “Friday” was a pivotal point in His perfect plan for our futures, just as that tragic Friday, some 2,000 years ago, was a pivotal point in His perfect plan for our eternal future. The silence of Saturday isn’t the end of the story; it’s just a dramatic pause. We must wait and listen for the sweet sounds of daybreak.
Do you suppose the Spirit whispered Psalm 30:5 into the ears of Jesus’ followers on that silent Saturday, so many years ago?
I think perhaps He did.
But did they hear Him?
I also believe He’s whispering it to your heart, and mine, today.
Can you hear it?
Your story is not over.
Weeping endures for a night but hold on! Sunday’s coming.