On the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, I have to pause to consider the disciples of Christ, what this day must have been like for them as they mourned Jesus’ death and remembered Him as He’d walked this earth, as they wondered if the Romans or the Sanhedrin would be coming for them next. What a horrible day that Saturday must have been when it seemed all hope had been swept from the earth.
The disciples were Jews and so on this Saturday, they continued to observe the Sabbath until sundown. I wonder if it felt as if that day would never end. Although they had walked with Jesus for the three years of His earthly ministry, they still didn’t know what was coming the next morning. How could they? How could anyone?
But I know. I almost have to hold my breath to control my anticipation of the blessed news that will come with the dawn: HE LIVES! He died for me. He rose for me. HE LIVES!
Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, All fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living just because He lives.
But that song will come tomorrow. Not today.