The Time in Between

Everyone remembers Good Friday, the day our Savior bled and died; and celebrates Easter, the day when Christ overcame the grave. But what about the day in between? When the world grew eerily silent. Hearts crushed the day before. All hopes and expectations were shattered. What was once so very certain and sure had become fleeting and an utter disappointment.

The disciples had scattered, fearing for their own lives. During Christ’s greatest moment of need, those closest to him abandoned him. I’m sure they were bewildered. The whirlwind that had occurred under the cover of darkness wasn’t a surprise. It was a methodically thought out plan. One that was just waiting in the shadows for a ripe opportunity.

I have found that most things that are done in secret, during the cover of night or during the wee hours of the morning are rarely ever things which bring about peace or are acts of love. They are usually things so wicked that it is only when darkness reigns that these vile schemes can be carried out. Even Jesus, when being arrested, questioned the mob that was led by his betrayer saying “Every day I was with you, teaching in the temple courts, and you did not arrest me.” Mark 14:49

But now, when there were no crowds to fear (Luke 22:2), when darkness had given them courage, their evil plans were set into motion. However, what they thought was Jesus’ downfall was actually just the beginning of his greatest moment of victory.

But here we are. The day after what seemed to have been the most awful day for Jesus’ followers. They didn’t know Sunday was coming. They didn’t know victory was waiting just around the corner. Good Friday was the finale. A tragic ending. And they sat in Saturday knowing that. Feeling the angst and pain. Fearing for their own lives. Not knowing what was going to happen next. Oh the immeasurable amount of grief they must have felt. A sorrow no words could express.

The time in between Friday and Sunday was a place of unknown certainty. What were they going to do now? It probably felt like they were living a nightmare. But it was also the Sabbath. A day that God created to grant us rest, to make us whole, and to provide for our weaknesses.

What felt like the end was really a time of restoration. A time to rest. A time to be made whole. I’m sure in the face of disbelief that was the last thing on their minds, but after everything they had endured, God gave them the time in between to be restored. They didn’t know it at the time, but what they thought was defeat was just a time of restoration before great victory. 

It feels like I’m in the time in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I’ve weathered many storms, faced defeat and heartache, but this is not the end. This is a time to rest and be made whole. Even in the midst of sorrow and grief, God is restoring me. And yes, Sunday is coming!

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