Yesterday was Easter. I have always been thankful for Easter and sometimes I’m a little perturbed at why Christmas gets so much more fanfare because the message of Easter is amazing. 

These days I find myself thankful for different parts of the story than ever before. I find myself grateful that I have a Savior who understands suffering. It used to bother me that it was such a high price, such a brutally, painful process that bought my freedom from sin. Couldn’t there be another way? But as I stood in church in pain I was comforted in knowing my pain is not foreign to any part of the godhead. The Father needing to turn His back and separate Himself from His beloved Son. The Son suffering shame and pain and being cut off. The Spirit who is grieved and groans with us. God is no stranger to loss. What a great truth to have such compassion moved toward me now. 

And I spent more time thinking about Saturday. That day of waiting. We know it was only one day, but did they? And would that not have been the longest. day. ever. even if they had put the pieces together and remembered what Jesus had said about the third day? 

We’re kind of living in Saturday, waiting for the ultimate Sunday when all things will be made right. When everything will be fulfilled that has been promised. And there are some times this does feel like the longest day ever.

But in the grand scheme of eternity, this one day is just that, one day. One part of this story unfolding of completion and redemption and even more grace coming when Jesus is revealed in all His glory. All of it. And it’s no wonder we will need new bodies for that. These ones would disintegrate. What a glorious day that will be. Yet even knowing Sunday will be beyond amazing doesn’t take away the pain of living here now. 

So today I write to remind myself even as I acknowledge that Saturday is hard. Really hard.