Typically, on this night, Holy Saturday, the night before Resurrection, I would have already been asleep by now. For the last several years I have awoken at around 3:30 on Easter Morning so that I could get to the church by about 4:30, have my first Coca-Cola of the day, and make sure that all the scripts and folders were in order for the youth that were coming to lead us in the Sunrise service. By the time they got there at 5:30, I was ready to go. On most of those Easter mornings, I would literally sit and watch the sunrise and think how different the day would be from the day before. I remember one of those mornings so clearly, I had gotten to the park early and the youth hadn’t come from warm-ups at the church, it was so cold, but I sat on the edge of the amphitheater and watched the sunrise over the concession stand in the park. All I could think was “I dreaded this moment because it was early, but I am so glad I made it.”
Tonight, however, I am sitting on my porch in one of my favorite rocking chairs drinking hot tea as I prepare for bed and thinking about how different this year is. Now, hear me say that I am grateful for different and I am grateful to not have to be up at 3:30 in the morning, but it is different, and I will wake up to experience a whole new Easter Sunday with a people that I have grown to love and care for deeply.
This season of lent that ends in a few hours, is a season that began with us remembering our humanity. As we receive the ashes upon our foreheads we are told, “from dust, you came to dust you shall return,” reminding us of our need for repentance and for forgiveness. This season of lent has done just that for me. There have been great moments where everything just fell into place, but there have been other moments where I have either fallen flat on my face or have been put in my place, and rightly so. But as each day ended, we found ourselves moving closer and closer to Palm Sunday, which begins Holy Week and ends at a cross. For three long days, it seems like all of the darkness in the world will overcome the light that it blew out.
So, for now, I sit, in the darkness that is night, and wait. I wait anxiously for the coming morning. I wait for the light that will enter into the sanctuary as we proclaim, “Christ is Risen!” I wait for the joy that comes with each new morning, but specifically for the joy that comes with remembering that Christ is alive and that Christ lives within us and moves among us. I wait for tomorrow. I long for tomorrow.
But for tonight, I wait. Maybe it’s a good thing to wait. I live in a world where I could have anything and everything if I wanted it. I could place an online order with a restaurant and it would be at my door within 40 minutes. I could buy/rent a book or a movie with one click. I can talk to friends without actually having to talk to them. Maybe it’s a good thing to learn to wait. Maybe it’s good to long for something and it not be instantly given to you. Maybe it’s good to be open to sitting in the longing that you have. Maybe it’s good to feel the longing, to experience the waiting.
I can’t imagine what it must have been like for the disciples and those who followed Jesus. The one person who they thought was going to change everything is now lying in a tomb and to top it all off, they are terrified that they are coming for them next. They just sit waiting, not having a clue what to do, and grieving the loss of their dear friend and leader. I wait knowing that Christ is risen, they waited not knowing. They waited in anguish and sadness and heartache. I wait with anticipation. They waited in fear that everything is over. I wait knowing that it isn’t over. They waited.
Tomorrow is my favorite day of the year, and it is the day where it all continues in ways that the disciples never saw coming. It is a day where trumpets will play, the hallelujah chorus will be sung, and joy will be on everyone’s faces. It is a day where the darkness cannot overcome the light. It is a day where I can’t help but smile. I can’t help but laugh. I can’t help but be in awe. I can’t help but feel just a bit closer to God. I can’t help but be excited… because I know that tomorrow the story continues with the ultimate plot twist.
But tonight. I wait. Recognizing my own darkness in my life, and praying that the light will shine upon it… and that the darkness within my soul can dissipate, and that the light can fill it.
