Learning to wait

So the Good Friday activities are done. I have been at a children's workshop with busyness of creating then on to a simple rendition of the gospel story from the last supper to the burial - using props we had added week by week through Lent and the tomb built for Sunday's grand reveal.

But Saturday is the long wait, we have the hindsight to know the story and look forward to Sunday, to hope, to life. But on that first Easter they didn't have have that, they had the grief, the confusion, the fear...  and it didn't look like life was coming, exactly the opposite.

I have had some serious stress over the last couple of weeks, the kind that punches you down even when not still getting equilibrium back from a significant depression wobble. At times like this it feels as if hope and life are beyond reach. Yet for Jesus' friends that was to come sooner than they could ever imagine.

My stresses may not disappear over a weekend, but Easter is a reminder that despite the pain and the chaos of life, hope still stands, and even if it feels as if it is always over the next horizon, maybe I can dare to wait, or at least dare to learn to wait.