Holy Saturday

The Saturday between the crucifixion and resurrection has always fascinated me. Yes, the book-end days are where we spend our Easters, but there is something about that Saturday. 

God was dead, now what?

I have to think that not all the followers scattered in fear. Not all of them hid out. Not all of them packed it up and went back home. Some of them waited. Some of them tried to piece together conversations and ideas from Jesus, looking for a slice of hope. A hope that said...maybe, hopefully something we can't see yet is about to happen. 

Imagine going to work, having a meal, taking a walk, or just trying to be normal that Saturday. Waiting. Hoping. Then losing hope. Remembering something HE said. Then having hope again. And waiting more. 

Faith was born on that Saturday. 

We are still watching a drain. We wait for a drip and then count the seconds until the next drip. It's maddening to wait and yet thrilling when it drops. Each time they roll Stacey over to check her incision and bandage is pure anxiety overload, then they tell us it's dry and we relax until the next shift change. We try and piece information together from doctors and nurses for some glimmer of hope. We try and block out the negative noise that gets overwhelmingly loud at times and remember to encourage each other. To hold hands and shut up. We reach for the next small victory. We hope and wait. 

In the next few days we will challenge the incision and drain. We will begin to find out how much healing has happened. 

But I can't help but feel like I'm walking into that Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. The space where faith is born. The place that is scary and unknown. The place where demons haunt you and anxiety runs rampant. Did it heal? What if? Why didn't you do this or that? The place where all is quite except those voices you wish you could shut off...

But I want with everything I am to believe that Sunday will come. That new is just around the corner. That dark always gives way to light. That Stacey's dura has sealed and we can go home. We can begin anew. I tell my shower walls and car windshield every morning that "I believe". 

And I do believe. I really do. We will get better and not bitter. But she and HE still have some work to do. She's got a few more days of laying on her back. A few more days of waiting and watching a drain. A few more shift changes. There is still some fight left. 

But I saw her smile that infectious smile today. The one that got me 13 years ago. The smile that's been absent for three long weeks. It was just another step towards the new... 

Here we come Sunday. 

I believe. 

#teamhealandseal