Dark Days

In between the crucifixion and the resurrection was a day that had to seem like one of the longest and loneliest to Jesus' followers. I wonder how many had gotten any sleep the night before, and, if any did, I wonder how many woke up wondering, hoping, that the events that had occurred the day before were just a nightmare.

The day after Jesus' death was a Saturday, a Sabbath day. It was meant to be a day of rest from work, a day to reflect upon God and His work. I wonder how many disciples found themselves questioning how all of this could have happened, and why didn't God do something to prevent it.

We all have these dark days, when the worst that could happen has happened to us. A family member dies. We lose our job. Someone we love walks out of our lives. And we're left with questions: Why did this happen? or Why me? or Could I have prevented this? or What good can possibly come from this?

I have a feeling that the questions we ask on these dark days are not a far cry from those asked by Jesus' disciples the day after the crucifixion. When I read the story of the crucifixion, I don't despair as the disciples did--because I know what comes next. I know that Sunday--Resurrection Sunday, to be precise--is coming. I already know that Jesus conquers the grave and wins the war against Satan for all time.

But when I'm in my own personal times of darkness, I don't always have that same hope. I often question God, question myself, and worry about what's going to happen. Sometimes it's difficult to look ahead to the unknown, particularly when Satan tries to fill my mind with thoughts of fear and disillusionment. The Easter story reminds me that there IS hope in the midst of darkness, and that God IS at work even when He seems silent or distant or not there at all.