Saturday, 19 April 2014


                                  "...we were hoping that it was He" (Lk 24:21)

This is the day that we sometimes miss.

Good Friday we have just solemnly marked. Easter Sunday awaits with its joyous celebrations. But Easter Saturday is the day that we too often overlook.

 For the disciples of Jesus, yesterday was a day of unimaginable horror. Tomorrow there will dawn a day of unspeakable joy.

But today there is neither. Today is limbo.

 On this day there is only a mute grief and the numbness known only to those who have wept until they can weep no longer. Today there is only that awful “hollowed-out” feeling. 

For on Easter Saturday all of our dreams lie behind a cold, stone slab.

This is the day of dashed hopes.

 The two on the road to Emmaus sum it up best for us.  For although in the scriptures we meet them on what is – by the calendar – Sunday; as they walk that dusty lane, there still remains in their hearts a cold stone slab.

For them it is still Saturday and they fear that it will always be so.

They had placed all their hopes upon Jesus. Invested everything in Him. Now he is gone, leaving behind only grief, confusion and crushing disappointment.
         But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.”   (Lk 24:21)

Behind those simple words lies a world of pain.

In varying ways, Easter Saturday comes to the life of every believer. And how we deal with the day will reveal to us the strength of our faith.

 What do you do when God, who had planted hope in your heart allows that hope to be brutally snuffed out?  What do you do when the dream that you firmly believed that He Himself had given to you, has died?

It is too easy for us to look back on this day from the high and secure vantage point of Resurrection Sunday. Too easy to simply note that everything turned out well after all.

On Saturday that seems too much to hope.
Now, joy will follow and no one will take that joy from us. But that is yet future.

On the "Easter Saturdays" of life there is nothing left to do but to hang on. Cling to your trust in God.

Your trust in a God who will not allow a cold stone slab to have the last say.

Your trust in a Saviour who, though dead, had so frequently reassured us in the past that He knew the way back from the grave.

This is the day when we must cling unshakably to the conviction that dead dreams can rise again.