Holy Saturday

Holy Saturday is the day when Christians focus on the absence of Jesus. He was laid in the tomb and that act seemed to have put an end to the whole story of His life and ministry. It brought a certain closure to His disciples. I wonder what they were thinking about on Saturday. They had enough time to deal with the shock of their teacher's arrest, trial and execution, but they still could not figure out why all that had to happen to Him.
Existentially, I can relate to Holy Saturday. I feel like my life now is stuck right in it. A year ago my third daughter was born and quickly diagnosed with Down syndrome. When she was 6 weeks old, we left our home in Kiev and moved to Michigan to care for her and figure out what God had for us next. We also left a new church we had planted and pastored in Kiev. That was my Good Friday. Now, the shock of Polly's birth has gone, we have dealt with our grief for the child we had expected and the ministry we loved and lost. We have gotten healthier and accepted Polly's diagnosis and changes it has brought. We have complained to God and cried. It is my Holy Saturday. I know there will be a Sunday morning. I know there will be a resurrection. But it is still Saturday here. God has not shown to us where He wants us to be and what He wants us to do yet. We are still waiting for Him to bring us back to life.