I have been thinking a lot this week about the meaning and importance of Easter…
Good Friday is grieving what our sin cost.
Easter Sunday is being grateful for our Savior’s cross.
Good Friday is feeling the forsakenness of the Son.
Easter Sunday is embracing the significance of what He’s done.
Good Friday is sorrow over the Savior’s suffering.
Easter is rejoicing over the resurrection of our eternal King.
Good Friday we feel the devastation of His final breath.
Easter Sunday we see His ultimate victory claimed over death.
But, I’ve never really thought about the silence of Saturday.
I wonder what Mary was thinking and feeling that Saturday. I know she fully believed her son was the Messiah. She watched Him grow, loved Him well and trusted God’s plan. However, she still had to watch her son die. She still mourned His death. She still had to bury His body. The silence of that Saturday had to be the loudest sound she’d ever heard.
His silence did not mean absence, it was sin’s required severance. He chose separation from relationship with His Father so our relationship with God could be restored. Without the silence, Good Friday wouldn’t have mattered and Easter Sunday would not be possible.
I believe with all of my heart that Jesus died and was resurrected, and because of that, I’ll see Paxton again. However, I still had to watch my son die. I still have to mourn his death. I still had to bury his body. I trust God’s plan, but Easter now hits differently for me. I am grieving the need for Jesus’s death. I am hopeful for His return. But for now, I am sitting in the silence of Saturday.
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the cross taken down
one last look at his face
the stone put in place
the sacrifice made
as the Messiah laid
in that cold, dark grave
tears flowing freely
quiet descended
a perfect life ended
relationship mended
the Son rejected
payment for my sin
hoping for Sunday
hating the wait
immeasurable pain
unwavering faith
grieving death
grateful for grace
learning to embrace
the silence of Saturday
the God kiss 