“A Time Of Waiting”
It’s Saturday, the day after Good Friday and the day before Resurrection Sunday. This is a dark and lonely day; a day you have to go on faith the light shines in the darkness, and nothing, not even death, can hold back the light.
Many of us live in this Saturday—time of waiting. We live in a place surrounded by the darkness whether it’s an internal self-imposed darkness or a coerced external darkness. Often we sit in this silence—a Silent Saturday. We sit and watch as darkness engulfs everything we hold dear. There is a heaviness—as if the air is being crushed out of our lungs. It gives the impression the dark loneliness is prevailing—and we can hear ourselves saying, “I’m fucked.”
Then we hear a gentle whisper of victory. The whisper reminds us that while God might appear absent or silent, it doesn’t mean He is not alive or fighting on our behalf—the gentle whisper speaks that God is in control. Other times we catch glimpses of the Light with our eyes. It can be in a smile, or a note, or sunbeams shining through grey clouds after a long winter season. Many times it’s just enough, and those few times we hear it or see it—the Light gives us enough hope to keep going for a day, a week, a month, or a year.
it's only passing.
veil of fear removed eyes see
the deep black burns away.
light invades the dark brings reawakening.
the air fresh to the touch and easy to sip
brings new vigor.
the passing always brings new life—
spring blossoms out of the darkness.
to hell or high water
it's spring again.
Dark Silent Saturdays are difficult days to endure—sometimes unbearable. But these Saturdays exceedingly remind us that spring is near and God's not done yet.
Keep the faith and fight the good fight,
This article was first published on Medium: medium.com/@joepuentes