Today is Holy Saturday. The little known day marking the 24 hours between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
Philip Yancey wrote about this in-between day in a way that’s stuck with me 10 years after I read it. He explained how in some sense we now live here everyday. Because “what the disciples experienced in small scale – three days, in grief over one man who had died on a cross- we now live through on cosmic scale. Human history grinds on, between the time of promise and fulfillment.
This year the in between feels more real. More poignant.
Behind us, the deep sadness of our foster son leaving his beloved home.
Before us, the anxiety of court and all that will be decided about where he might live next.
The analogy isn’t perfect of course. There is no promise of a good outcome here. And every outcome carries brokenness.
But it’s a good reminder to me to hope. As Jesus’ disciples grieved for those 24 hours, feeling lost and alone, God was preparing to rise in all His glory. He had not deserted them.
And He has not deserted me, or my husband, or our dear foster son.