The time between crucifixion and resurrection. It’s very vivid for me. Not just tomorrow, for all of it’s symbology and significance on the Christian calendar. What I am talking about is so much deeper than that. It’s the realization that the entirety of life on this earth, for those of us who believe, is meant to be lived in the day between Friday and Sunday.
Ever since Judah died, I’ve been very attuned to the realization that for the rest of my life, I will exist in the Saturday between death and resurrection. We who wait for our reunion with Christ, wait there, in the Saturday between our death to sin and our reunion in our home with our Lord. But it’s hard to realize that, to focus on it, through the trappings and countless distractions of this earth.
My own realization that I am not my own, that I don’t live here for myself, that I am to exist from my salvation until my death, in Saturday, came with Judah’s death.
Judah has seen Sunday, with his own eyes.
I am still in Saturday.
I believe in the promise of Sunday with all of my heart. I believe in it and I bow my soul to the sacrifice of Friday, the only way I would ever be able to enter the promise of the joy of Sunday. But I haven’t yet found the moment that crosses from midnight to eternity, like my child has. Not yet. I still walk in Saturday.
When I first came to Christ, God walked me through my Friday and just close enough to Sunday that my heart has touched golden glimpses of it, from time to time. My soul has nearly seen the pearly edge of it now and then, in the moments God lets me see Him, working around me. But even the very best I can see right now, with my still-earth-bound eyes, are vague and beautiful shadows of The Son, rising ahead of me.
So, I must walk on with life, in the day-in-between. And the best I can do here is to show people that this place really exists and that they can get here too, if they let God walk them here.
And then, I’ll just keep walking and waiting and longing and reaching, until one day, I will join my child, in the fulfillment of the promise and the gift of Sunday.
By Christi Brown