God’s silence lay over the disciples.  Heavy. Or maybe it was like thin air. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.  Everything they’d known had been torn away, violently.  And now, the silence of the terrified disciples accentuates their stark, new reality.  A cold tomb, occupied.  Saturday.

God is still.

They think to themselves. I believed a lie. How could this happen? It can’t be a lie. I saw and heard miraculous things!  My God, why have you forsaken me? I don’t know what to do…


These have been my own.  In God’s silence, I tripped and stumbled.  I wondered why He’d abandoned me.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. What if everything I believed was false?  What if I never heard His voice in the first place?  No. I’ve seen and heard miraculous things.  What if He’s turned His back on me?  It’s my fault.  What if I had done things differently?  I don’t know what to do…


I know He is there.  In despair, I cry out to a God who will not comfort me with His presence.  I think back on the time when I enjoyed His companionship, times when I think He may have enjoyed mine.  I know His voice, and followed it. He’s been with me all along, hasn’t He?


I know He is there.  This isn’t some inky black separation.  This is something else.  What is He waiting for?  So I pray.  Pursue.  Stumble.  Yell at Him to stop whatever it is He is doing.  I don’t understand.  Please say something.  Please, oh, please… I need to hear from you, Lord.  Tell me what’s going on.  Yell at me.  Tell me what I already know about myself.  You’ll find agreement.  Just speak.  Please God.

This holy Saturday has been mine.  I can taste the dust that swirls around the disciples.  They are still.  The noise in their own heads drowns out the silence in the room.  Please God.  Just speak.

Maybe He is busy doing something.  Wait in the silence.  He is faithful.  Just wait. He does not abandon.  He is simply,



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