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But Then Sunday Came



I’ve never really paid attention to the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter. To be honest, it was an extra day for me to prepare Easter baskets and hide eggs around our backyard. But recently, I’ve been reading a lot about the significance this Saturday holds.


Saturday was filled with sorrow for Mary. There was mourning, there were tears, there was confusion, there was anger. It felt like Saturday would last for a lifetime.


But then Sunday came.


And Jesus rose from the dead and ascended into heaven. Selflessly pouring out all these miraculous blessings. Blessings that can be hard to see while on this Earth. But Earth isn’t the end. Eternity is what matters.


We are sitting in our Saturday right now.

Sitting in sadness. Sitting in confusion. Sitting in so much anger. And it feels like it will never end.


But our Sunday will come. I don’t know when. I honestly don’t even know how. But I know this heart shattering tragedy has a bigger purpose than what our eyes can see in this moment. I know that our true healing won’t come from a man, but from a supernatural force.


So even though waking through these church’s doors today to celebrate Easter makes my heart sting, because the last time we were here we had our precious Ellie girl with us, I am going anyway.


Because Mary still worshiped through all of her pain. She still raised her hands and looked up because she knew that’s where she would find her healing. And that it our only choice while we anxiously await our Sunday.



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