“On Holy Saturday I do my best to live in that place, that wax-crayon place of trust and waiting. Of accepting what I cannot know. Of mourning what needs to be mourned. Of accepting what needs to be accepted. Of hoping for what seems impossible.”
― Jerusalem Jackson Greer, A Homemade Year: The Blessings of Cooking, Crafting, and Coming Together
Today is the ultimate “meantime.” It’s the time between the grief of the past hours and days, and the soon-to-be celebration of the not-yet. It’s a time for waiting and hoping and praying.
We trust that tomorrow we will be reminded yet again that death does not have the last word, that love is stronger than evil, and that new life awaits us in the here and now. We know the end of the story. The dead rise to new life and we are given life in all it’s fullness.
But for today, we wait. We trust. We hope and against hope and we fear nothing because the worst has happened and we are still here. Tomorrow is another day.
What are you looking for? We are asked. Why do you seek the living among the dead? The one you are looking for is not here.
Do we believe it? We wait and we hope and tomorrow songs and alleluias will rise from our lips and our hearts will be moved but do we choose to live in the hope of the resurrection? What will we do differently knowing that the One who saves us delivers us even from the death of our own making?