It Was a Saturday Like Today


Weeping may last the night, but joy comes in the morning || Psalm 30:5

I woke up this morning at home. There’s something that is simply right about being home. It’s where we belong. For me, it is my safe place.

In Boone, we have been getting glimpses of spring – daffodils cheering on pensive redbuds. Most of the other plants seem dubious and continue to wait. Driving home to Raleigh yesterday, however, there was no holding back among the foliage. Yellow-green leaf buds could not seem to break free fast enough; and oh how beautiful the cherry trees are. There’s the Helen of Troy of cherry trees across the street from my bedroom, nodding good morning to me, quietly laughing at my bleary eyes and morning hair. (It happens to the best of us)

Curled up in my much-too-big-for-me-bed, I couldn’t help but think of this Saturday two thousand years ago. Jesus was dead, buried in the tomb. Can you imagine being one of his followers? Your king who rode a donkey instead of a war horse, wore a crown of thorns instead of one covered in jewels and the robes of a carpenter instead of heavy layers of purple was now dead. By the standards of the world, He had been defeated by the one who could never be defeated. (Little did we know what was coming)

It must have been lonely, discouraging, empty. I invite too many of these ‘Saturdays’ into my life – times I feel alone because something is not what I expected. On that Saturday, Jesus was gone. He was dead. The curtain in the temple had been torn, but the stone remained in front of the grave. 

God remains good, all the time. In His goodness, He is not limited. My expectations to how the goodness of God will play out often is not what often occurs. When this happens, I find myself lapsing into what I would imagine many of Jesus’ followers felt that Saturday. But the thing is, God calls us to more.

He calls us to faith. 

Faith that He will rise again – that joy will come in the morning. He allows for the weeping, the mourning, but even greater than our loneliness, discouragement, fear, or anger is His promise that joy does come in the morning. This joy is so sweet. When we are in the ‘Saturdays,’ let’s look to what He promises us because that, sweet friends, is where we find our joy.


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