So, we wait.

We don’t rush to the finish. We don’t turn to the back of the book for the answers or the last chapter to see how it comes out. We don’t take the short cut through the peppermint forest if we roll doubles. We don’t jump to the front of the line. We wait. 

What anguish there is in waiting.

• The physical discomfort of position, perhaps injury or illness or disease.
• The mental turmoil of wondering what will it take to be well?
• The emotionally wrenching, what if things don’t get better?
• The spiritual crisis, why did God allow this to happen?

Holy Saturday sits us here, perhaps personally, or perhaps at the bedside or at a distance but in intercession for another. We wait, and while we wait, we pray.

Jesus knew pain.

• The physical pain of crucifixion.
• The mental pain of derision and public humiliation.
• The emotional pain of grief and loss, sorrow and betrayal.
• Even the spiritual pain of forsakenness, rejection and loneliness.

Jesus waited a day, and while he waited, he healed. The suffering of physical pain was gone. The mental pain, he resolved “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” The spiritual pain was answered, “He sits at the right hand of God the Father.” But the emotional pain…does he still shed tears for his people? He must.

How does emotional pain find its healing?

Where do anguish, sorrow, and mourning go?

Time heals all wounds, we like to say, but that gives too much power and too much credit to time.

Waiting alone doesn’t heal.

While we wait, we pray.

Prayer takes the black and white of Good Friday and colors it in the pastels and bright hues of Easter.

The Father gives hope to those who pray.