"Saturdays...."

 Good Friday is over. 

Now it’s Saturday.

Saturday. 

As Jesus’ friends awoke, the day after they watched their dear friend violently die, I imagine it took some longer than others to remember. 

As the morning sun streamed in the windows, bringing the promise of a new day, their memories of the night before caught up with them. 

The morning sun no longer held promise. J

ust defeat.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

How could Jesus leave them like this?

Where do we go from here?

Just take a moment and think about this, Think about how they all felt. 

The promise and the hope that they all felt...gone. 

In the blink of an eye....it all changed. 

All they had now was darkness. 

Now let's think about this from "our" perspective. 

We have all been there. 

I’ve lived through my share of “Saturdays” filled with hopelessness. The thoughts of how my life wasn’t supposed to look like this..how I was supposed to have purpose....That things weren’t supposed to look this way. How it didn’t feel as if I would ever find joy again.

Let me ask you, Are you stuck on Saturday?

Truly it looks different for all of us. 

Depression. 

A soul-killing job. 

Loss of a job.

Illness. 

Divorce. 

Death. 

But one thing is the same, we feel as if God has abandoned us. He’s stopped speaking. Or at least, we’ve stopped hearing. He’s silent. Maybe even…dead.

I will be honest with you here. I have always been honest with my readers. My life has been filled with many Saturday's in the last several years. More than I care to admit. There have been day's that I have made myself smile through the tears....day's that I have ignored texts messages and phone calls because I didn't want to have to pretend. Didn't want to have to lie. Didn't want to have to explain. 

After my Dad died, I was angry. More angry than I realized. 

Of course, I went through all the stages of grief that they tell you that you will experience. 

But I honestly was not ready for anger. 

I thought I had made peace with the fact that my Dad was going to die and that I would convienantly skip over anger. 

I was wrong. 

It started slowly. I would see newspaper articles about people criminals or child molesters....and I would think to myself "Why did MY Dad have to die when these low life's get to live?" 

I started to get angry whenever someone would tell me "He's in a better place." or "You should find comfort in knowing he's in Heaven." Or better yet "He wouldn't want you to be sad."

And I truly truly truly despise "Everything happens for a reason."

Because no it doesn't. 

I will argue this one to my grave. 

Not everything has a reason...and telling someone who is grieving their loved one that there is a reason for it....IS NOT COMFORTING.

This is where my hatred for cliche saying come....and 4 years later...I still hate them. 

Then came the anger in church. 

I still went because it was what was expected of me. 

Be the good mom and the good wife and attend church on Sunday morning. 

But I stopped singing. I stopped bowing my head in prayer. 

I stopped praying. 

I began to try to dispute everything that our preacher said in my head. 

I scoffed at his words.

I looked out the window a lot.

I was even angry with our preacher. 

Stupid , I know....As if he had anything to do with my Dad dying....but I was. 

I didnt realize how angry I truly was at God. 

Ive always had questions about religion. 

And before you read this next part, let me be clear...I believe in God. I believe that there is a Heaven and a Hell. I believe there is a God and there is a Devil. 

BUT....

I have always had questions about religion 

A lot of questions. 

And I have always had questions about the validity of the Bible and its teachings. 

Sometimes I think of the Bible as one of those games that you play in elementary school. 

It starts with about 10 people and the first person whispers in the ear to the 2nd person and the 2nd person whispers the same thing in the ear of the 3rd person and so on...

And by the time the message gets to the 10th person....the message is completely different that what is started out as. 

the Bible is also a based on perspective to me. 

Take a random bible verse and ask 50 different people what they perceive that bible verse as....what it says to them....and you will more than likely get 20 or 30 different answers. 

Its all based on perspective. 

Im not here to argue or for you to try to convince me of anything....because religion is one of those things that I will never hardly debate with someone about. 

Politics is another but that's for another time. 

I hate to admit just how angry I was at God and at religion....but the truth is...I was. 

I knew what I was feeling wasn't right. 

So I went against my anger and prayed for guidance. I prayed for answers. Prayed that this anger would lessen and I wouldn't feel so much darkness in my heart. 

I'm often looked at as an encourager. 

Someone who lifts others up.

I felt like a fraud.

Because often times, when you are looked at as an encourager...you don't want to let the ones that look up to you for inspiration...for that encouragment down. You just don't want to admit that you just don't have it all together. That your life feels like it is falling apart and you are left standing there trying to hold it all together. 

You are simply holding on by a thread. 

You don't want to admit that you, in fact, have no clue as to what you are doing or what you are even supposed to be doing. 

Its been a long 4 years without my Dad and I can't say that I'm not still angry....but its a lot less than it was...and it doesn't consume my heart anymore. 

Ive began praying again. 

Ive began singing the hymn again. 

I dont look out the window anymore. 

And Im not angry at the preacher anymore. 

I still hate cliche sayings and I still do not think everything happens for a reason. 

I am coming out of "my" Saturday. 

As I sit here and type this...I think back on that Saturday after Christ was cruxified. 

I also can't help but to think the best part of this story is that I know what happens. 

The truth is that no day lasts forever. 

Even Saturday. 

As Sunday dawned, so did the hopes of the world.

The women came to the tomb. The only ones strong enough to face what had happened. 

Women....look in the cracks of history....and you will always find us. 

Doing hard things. Being present at the most glorious moments. 

"He isn’t here, he is risen! Go, tell the others."

"He is risen!'

Everything I believe hangs on this historical fact. 

He. is. no. longer. dead.

Sunday brings life. Sunday brings hope. Sunday brings the answers to Saturday.

God will not remain silent. Death could not contain Jesus. Sunday will come. And when it does, you can look back and praise him for his faithfulness. 

Even on Saturday.

My Saturday's aren't over. I know there will be plenty more as I learn to navigate life.. I have to remember that through times of grief.....That there will always be a light.  He is molding me...he is making me lean on my faith...making me trust in him....and only then will he unburden the anger in heart fully.

His love is relentless.

Sunday is coming, my sweet friends. Let us rejoice in this.

And if you are currently in your "Saturday"....hang on....It will not last forever. 

I promise you...Sunday will come.