Easter Saturday

A few years ago, some of my closest friends lost their grandfather. In preparation for the funeral, my friends taught their young children about the resurrection: our hope and belief that, one day, Jesus would make all things new, and the dead will rise. After the funeral and the burial, they were searching for their children and couldn't find them with the rest of the family. Eventually, they found the children back at the grave site. They asked the kids what they were doing still standing there; they answered, "Waiting for grandpa to rise." My friends realized they hadn't totally clarified that this was not necessarily happening instantly, and had to disappoint the kids again with the reality that there was still more waiting.

Today, I feel like my friends' kids. Friday, we remembered Christ's death. Tomorrow, we will celebrate his resurrection. But today, like so much of life, we wait. We remain caught between the remembrance of what has happened -- our sins have been paid for -- and what we believe with certainty is coming -- all sin and death will be destroyed. All will be made right. But it hasn't happened yet, and I've found myself today stuck staring at that grave, in a painful place of waiting, trying to hold onto the childlike faith that I will see the resurrection.

Come, Lord Jesus. Come soon. Happy Easter to you, friends.