The Saturday In Between

The Saturday in between. It's the space in the middle of grieving what was and hoping for what God said He'd do, and the only way forward is straight through it.

This space is full of the kind of darkness that confuses everything. Uncertainty. Despair. Frustration. Feelings of hopelessness, loss, and "it's over?" take over what once seemed so sure. Suddenly, life's color has disappeared, and the world seems to be mourning right along with you.

This is the Saturday in between.

Death happened. Now what?

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In light of Good Friday, Resurrection Sunday, and the Saturday in between, Mary Magdalene's perspective sticks out to me.

Oh, how she must have grieved when Jesus took His final breath.

This Guy had uprooted her entire life and replanted her heart in rich, lovely soil.

She used to be so broken. Her reputation was questionable at best. She was enslaved to the seven demons within her. Until Jesus entered her world and made her whole. She might as well have been dead in the torment of her unhealthy living until Jesus showed up and gave her life.

She might as well have been dead in the torment of her unhealthy living until Jesus showed up and gave her life.

This Life was worth forsaking everything. She supported Jesus' mission financially and travelled with them. What was once a shell's dark existence became a voice, a heart, a soul--known, seen, and loved. She stepped into Life and never looked back.

Then Friday hit, and it was a nightmare too traumatic to understand and too real to look away.

Suddenly, this Life who rescued her was... Crucified? Pierced? Crushed? Dead?

Nothing made sense, and I wonder if the demons of her past tormented her with dark memories, lies, and fear that night.

Was she even able to sleep? When morning came the next day, did she pull the covers over her head to block out the sunlight she used to bask in?

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My heart aches with Mary Magdalene, with Peter, with the Roman soldier who realized Jesus' kingship after the fact, with Mary's mama-bear heart...

It's easy for me to insert my soul into this story, for I'm in a Saturday-in-between of my own.

I want to wrap my arms around the necks of both Marys and weep with them. I want to look into the eyes of the soldier and encourage, "Just wait. Just hold on until Life shows up again." I want to slip my hand into Peter's and let him know he's not alone in his grief and his guilt.

I want to whisper into Mary Magdalene's ear, "You'll dance in the light again."

"Peter, you'll be hanging out with your Best Friend again soon."

"Roman soldier, you don't understand it all yet, but you are forgiven."

"Mary, your heart won't always ache this way."

And I wonder, if these people could enter into the Saturday-in-between of my own story, what would they say to me?

"Don't deny your First Love."

"Don't wait to believe He really is King over all."

"Don't waste your time of grief being enslaved by fear."

"Don't give up on hope."

"Don't be blind to the very things Heaven has already spoken over you."

If they had a do-over of their Saturday-in-between, what would they do (and believe) differently? What would they change about their thought process and heart posture?

Because, here's the thing--the disciples knew (or at least heard) the happy ending.

Jesus straight-up told them He'd be back in three days. These dear friends of His saw Him love, heal, redeem, and bring broken people to life. (Did He not call His buddy out of a tomb mere days before He was in a tomb of His own?)

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There is a time to grieve. I believe the strongest faith warriors feel the deepest and weep the hardest.

The Saturday-in-between is for crying it out, feeling it out, processing it out. It's okay. Our hearts weren't created to hold the weight of death. Our souls ache and our heads spin when something beloved dies in this world because we were designed for Kingdom living. Not dying.

Jesus knows this. He wept on this earth, too. He gets it.

Our hearts weren't created to hold the weight of death. Our souls ache and our heads spin when something beloved dies in this world because we were designed for Kingdom living. Not dying.

But in our grieving, there must be a releasing--a relinquishing of ourselves and our sorrows--and a clinging to faith in the unseen. The disciples heard the game plan but were blinded by the dark reality of death.

We're quick to notice the "there's no way"s of life, aren't we?

On that Saturday-in-between, every follower's heart and questioning soul was nearly broken in two by the weight of the "there's no way." Death feels so final.

Friend, this is when we have to look up.

I want to cup the face of every soul enslaved by the "there's no way" in Friday's aftermath and ask, "Did Jesus not say He is the Way?"

In God's economy, death proceeds life.

The Saturday is just as much a part of God's plan as the Friday and the Sunday.

It's the Saturday in between the death and the life that is our opportunity to couple the grief with faith; the waiting with the worshipping; the tears of sorrow with tears of hope; the "there's no way" with "Jesus is the Way"; the "this is how I feel" with "this is what Jesus said."

Though death is not of God, He is God, and He has a way of taking the worst thing and creating the best thing.

Will you wait for Him? Will you believe what He said? Will you go a step further and open your hands, palms up, positioning yourself to receive His best--whatever it may look like? Are you expecting Life on your Saturday-in-between?

Saturday's here. It's been here. Why not worship your way into Sunday?

Sleeping heart, wake up. Blind eyes, flutter open. Aching soul, you can grow right where you are and break through to abundant Life.

Here's where the dead things breathe again. Life is in the air. The Way is making a way. Your future has a Sunday. Do you believe it?