It’s very quiet. The quietness of broken dreams. The quietness of grief and loss. The quietness in which you can only hear the sighs and see the tears. It’s all gone wrong.
You know that maddening quietness that occurs after a sudden diagnosis, loss or breakup, as you’re almost to confused and shocked to even utter anything.
When it’s quiet it’s so much easier to be assaulted by so many questions. I guess that’s why we fill our lives with noise, in the hope that the questions will go away. But they don’t….
How could they do this to Him?
Why didn’t He do something to stop His enemies?
How does this all tie in with His words?
Have I believed a lie?
Will I be next?
Today is a hard day. Exactly because maybe, just maybe, someone amongst the disciples night have remembered His words about rising from the dead. Sure, they didn’t do a Bible Study on it. If there was some faith it was almost to fragile to parade it. Therefore there is that mixture of fear and anticipation. Like the one before the exam results. You paint the two alternative pictures of the future, in your mind’s eye, and hope, just hope…
We have been there and will be there. The dreadful and dreaded inbetween. Where we wait and we hope. The place where we pray that our human full stop becomes the divine comma. Take comfort, dear friends, you’re not alone in how you feel. You might feel weak but it’s this kind of weakness that opens the door for God’s mighty power.