filled with sorrow, or expectant joy?

I wonder what the disciples thought on the second day. They had just witnessed the wrongful accusation and brutal death of their close friend and precious Savior. He had told them He would rise again. In fact, enough people had heard talk of Jesus rising on the third day that Pilate ordered Jesus' tomb to be reinforced so the disciples couldn’t scam everyone by stealing the body and claiming the empty tomb as proof of a resurrection.

I wonder if the disciples were filled with sorrow, or filled with expectant joy. 

I wonder if they experienced both of those feelings. The battle between soul-crushing reality and soul-saving promises. 

Did the disciples feel defeated by Christ’s death? Did they feel let down? How could they... knowing He would rise again?

I feel defeated. I feel let down. I find myself in this place of second-day-ness, of knowing the glory is coming but feeling the weight of grief. 

That confusion between I know You are good

and

...how is this good?

Habakkuk, the Old Testament prophet, felt that confusion. He longed for justice to be brought to the land of Judah. He pressed God to take immediate action. He asked, do I have to wait forever? God replied, "If it seems slow in coming, wait patiently, for it will surely take place.” God’s plan for justice, and the timing of it, didn’t make sense to Habakkuk. But he resolved to wait.

"I will wait...
17 Even though the fig trees have no blossoms,
    and there are no grapes on the vines;
even though the olive crop fails,
    and the fields lie empty and barren;
even though the flocks die in the fields,
    and the cattle barns are empty,
18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord!
    I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!"

I see how this waiting — this waiting that I hate so much — I see how it’s sanctifying me. I see how this waiting has led to blessed conversations, to new perspectives, to the opportunity to encourage and affirm. I see how this desert place has made my soul thirst for God. 

Oh, but this waiting is hard.

Oh, but remember! Glory is coming.

----

Thank you to my friends Shannon and Rachel for encouraging me to write this post. Shannon re-blogged a post she previously wrote called "Easter Saturday," and when I read it this morning I thought I couldn’t possibly add anything (which is why my timing on publishing this post is rather late). Shannon’s post is simply beautiful. You need to read it. My favorite line is, "I still find myself in the middle place where reality and expectation collide, where life experience and future hope aren’t always woven together as seamlessly as I would like them to be.” And then the ending -- I love that ending.

If you’re waiting (or if you just want to hear a lovely song), give this a listen.