I shared some reflections a few weeks ago. Although I've been a Bible learner and disciple of Christ for many years, I do not yet have this walk figured out. It's filled with missteps and mistakes, and even when I re-read some of my prior posts, I can see how I could have represented the truth more fully and adequately. It is humbling to know that God still brings truth even in our tiny bit of understanding.
Today, we start a Bible study I've refused to write for months. It is a chapter out of my dark soul and a testament to the bright communion God showed me over a long, swarthy night. I know I need to sit still and get some of the messy, messy work God has graciously done down on paper. I dread it and welcome it all in one.
Holy Saturday is known as the day between Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. It's the day of waiting—the messy middle. It's the season where you've died to what is old, but you can't quite see what's coming. It's like letting go of one trapeze, seeing the ground below you, and not yet having grasped the next bar. Holy Saturday is a holy suspension in mid-air.
