By Emily Huff —
Our family has been in a season of waiting for a number of years for God’s answer regarding our direction with work and calling. As we have prayed as a family for a new path, I’ve been thankful for prayers that remind me that this is in God’s hands, for prayers for a place to flourish, prayers for God to open the right door, and prayers for reassurance of God’s love throughout the journey.
It’s been said to me that we are experiencing a “Holy Saturday” through this waiting- the time in between the cross and the resurrection when Friday’s over but Sunday has not come yet.
This has been a longer road than expected. As a runner, I’ve compared this season to running a race that turned out to be more mileage than I signed up for. If I were told that I would be running a mile but then were told midway that I’m actually to be running a marathon, I would feel exasperated and weariness would set in. This “race” has had some bumps along the way, but we’ve seen grace show up in life in all its messy glory. While wrestling with God and crying out again and again for a new song to sing (Psalm 40), we’ve also seen God’s provision and faithfulness over and over.
As spring is just about to bloom here in Seattle, I look at the tulips and daffodils that are trying to make their grand entrance. These bulbs have been underground for a long time, and I’ve wondered if they are truly going to find their way through the dirt. It’s felt foolish to hope at times for things we are waiting for, but my brother-in-law told me that the word for wait and hope in Hebrew is the same in Isaiah 40:25-31. I am reminded that there is more going on that I cannot see, and I firmly believe God has been cultivating trust in our hearts.
Wendell Berry shares this wisdom, “We live the given life, not the planned.” This is not the path we would have chosen. Though this season, we’ve had a lot of practice trusting when we can’t see the whole picture. In some ways, it feels good that our faith muscles seem to be getting stronger as we are developing resilience and grit we did not have before. We have been able to stand back and celebrate the showing forth of God in unexpected places while also still asking, seeking and knocking the best we know how.
Theologian and professor of piano Jeremy Begbie says, “Music teaches us that just because there is silence doesn’t have to mean the silence is empty of void.” Music (and life, for that matter) need pauses. Holy Saturday at times seems like an unnecessary pause. I want to grieve on Good Friday and then to jump right to Easter morning for the celebration. However, the space in between can have a lot to teach us. While these pauses and turns in the road may be unexpected and even unwelcome at times, they can be filled with meaning and purpose.
So, as you find yourself in your own rendition of your “Holy Saturday,” may the roots of your faith grow deeper as you place your hand in His and keep running the race.