I love Easter.
I love the unity among believers as we grieve sin on Friday and then rejoice in victory on Sunday. But I'm always uncomfortable with Saturday.
The day we all wait.
I'm torn. I want to feel the grief that His followers felt, that Mary and Martha wrestled, the doubt and fear that overwhelmed the disciples as they tried to make sense of their loss. I want to remember and know.
But I can't. I can't feel anything but sympathy and unending excitement. Victory.
Sympathy for my fellow family in Christ that suffered those terrible two days. But unending excitement for that third day where the world burst.
So happy waiting everyone.
Sunday's coming. 2.