The Waiting Game

I don't know if I'm just copying or echoing what musician Matt Maher says here about waiting, but I have to get this message out.

We all know how important Good Friday is.

And we all know how important Easter Sunday, the Resurrection, is.

But what about the day in-between, sandwiched in the middle, the day when people didn't know if Jesus had really died or if He would rise again, as He promised.

I can imagine that most of the populace thought that Jesus had, indeed, died. After all, to most he wasn't the Messiah yet, he was a powerful political leader there to overthrow the Roman government. To others, he was the Son of God, the One who would rise in just one day (after three).

So we have a great chasm between the people of Jerusalem. A variety of beliefs, shouts, and rejoices at His death. And then... some who cried.

What went on that Saturday? As Maher says in his 4-minute commentary, were they just waiting to see if Jesus would really rise from the dead or was it an ordinary Saturday for some? Do your work, feed the family. One more heretic and nuisance put to death on the cross. Go to sleep.

I'd love to hear what Christ's followers and adversaries were feeling that Saturday.

Maher comments on the concept of waiting, in general. We are a society of NOW NOW NOW. No waiting. We text immediately. We talk immediately. What we want we get immediately.

Back then, everything happened in its own time. Slowly. Oh, what slowness Saturday must have had according to the believers.

Maher and I both encourage you to sit in the "waiting" of Saturday. Don't try to get too much done too fast; don't talk too fast; don't do too fast. Just sit. Think on Jesus. Think on the people who loved him and were waiting those three days, mourning their Messiah, hoping against all other doubt that He would rise up.

Make this Saturday a holy day as well. Dedicate it to the art of waiting.

I end in prayer:

Dear Lord, please instill in me a sense of peace this Saturday before Easter Sunday. Allow me time to sit and reflect upon You and the people two thousand years ago - what they must have been going through. Let me not skip over Saturday in my anxiousness to jump from Your death to Your resurrection. For there are lessons in the waiting, too: patience, dedication, passion. Let me not rush or hurry; let me be meditative and still. I will look forward to Easter Sunday, but I will not forget You on Saturday or any other day. For every day is a day of waiting. We wait for Your return, even now, don't we. Be with me on the day of waiting, Heavenly Father. And on Easter Sunday, as I am baptized into the Christian faith (possibly for the second time; we're not sure) allow Your Spirit to wash over me in joy and celebration.
Amen.

And to you, dear reader, I pray that you take the time to be still this Saturday. To embrace the art of waiting, realizing that good things do come. They do, they do.