Grandma Mickey cake is sitting in the kitchen waiting for the the final frosting to be made tomorrow morning. Ribs are coated and ready to go into the oven within the hour for a long slow cooking marathon. If I was really dedicated, I would have made Grandma Mac noodles…but I’m not that motivated today. I caught a whisper of the Grands’ colds, so I spent most of the morning sleeping, and the rest of the day not eating until I ate some yogurt and fruit a few minutes ago. The blessing is that Easter is almost here.
I always wonder what the disciples and Mother Mary did on Saturday. It was the Sabbath, so they would not have done much. A quiet day for many thoughts – many fears – many doubts. Did they have faith in the prophecy then, or did they just curl into themselves in sadness and despair? We’ve all been there. We’ve all curled up in a ball at one time or another. They saw the sky grow dark. The earth shake. The curtains ripped from top to bottom. Did they seek affirmation from Our Father? Among themselves? Did they walk back to the tomb? Whatever they did – I’m sure the day passed at at a crawl for all of them.
Tomorrow, the eyes of the world will open to a new day. The Son, indeed, did rise from “the heart of the earth”. The cup has been emptied and a new covenant is established for the Jews and gentiles alike. Joy does come in the morning.
“For His anger endures but for a moment; in His favor is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” Ps 30:5
