saturday

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saturday.

for some reason, it always tends to be saturday that brings me to my knees.

i wrote about saturday last Easter too, and it will never cease to resonate with me.

saturday.

a day of doubt.

a day of aching.

a day of confusion.

a day of grief.

saturday, i see your darkness.


i sat out on the front porch with my mom tonight,

rain pouring down and thunder roaring.

that is how i imagine saturday.

darkness.

quiet.

peaceful.

eerie.

the only glimpses of light come through the majesty and destruction of the lightening.

even in the darkness His power prevails.


i remember the day of Leilani’s second heart transplant,

as if it were yesterday.

i wrote the most joyous words of celebration,

a letter of knew life and hope for a future.

i remember sitting in a waiting room.

aunts, cousins, grandparents, and friends.

waiting.

and waiting.

and waiting.

i remember less than 24 hours before,

getting a call from the most bright eyed soul,

rejoicing over her gift,

her hope.

this was good.

and here we were,

waiting.

and waiting.

and waiting.

for this knew life, this gift, to be resurrected in her.

we asked doctors, we asked nurses,

how much longer.

how much longer until we will see our miracle.

until we will see this gift.

until we will see her life.

the waiting is agony,

yet we knew the morning was coming and knew life would be awakened.

Leilani is not my salvation.

her story does not compare to that of the King of Kings.

but she is my miracle,

one that exemplifies the light of Christ in every breath she breathes.


i sometimes wonder what it must have felt like.

the whole weekend a rollercoaster of agony and joy.

if it was like the eeriness of the rainstorm.

if it was like the agony of the waiting room.

if it was far far worse, oh i am sure of it.

the Lord has spent this year speaking the necessity of the sadness in the fulfillment of joy.

i have seen nothing that could ever compare to the anguish of a Holy Lord hanging from a wretched tree that He Himself created with a simple word.

i need friday,

i need sunday,

and i need saturday every bit the same.

without the agony,

and without the waiting,

the resurrection misses a key piece of beauty.

it misses the redemption of suffering.

it lacks the redemption of the broken.

i believe the Lord so intricately laid out the weekend for more reasons than one,

but my heart song cries out praise for a King whom in His death declared an outline for the Christ-seeking walk.

suffering from the world,

waiting for His returning,

and basking in the joy of His resurrection and promise.


sunday is coming.

sunday will always come.

i will always know how the story ends.

even when my fickleness leads me to forgetfulness.

remember, remember how He told you.

He is not here.

He has risen.

sunday is coming.

sunday will always come.

friday, i see your aching.

saturday, i see your hopelessness.

but sunday, oh i see you.

everyday i seek you.

sunday you will always come.

He will always come.

 

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