I love Holy Saturday. It has a familiarity about it, a sense of waiting, a sense of not knowing what will happen. We actually spend most of our lives in Holy Saturday, except that we don't admit it. Holy Saturday is the day we honor that sense of waiting, that sense of faith that things will get better, that knowledge that no matter how much faith we have, we don't really know what will happen. Will Easter ever come? Holy Saturday is a day that reminds us to trust and wait. Holy Saturday is a day that celebrates Not Yet.
Not yet.
Not yet seems to be a message I need to grow into, and although I am becoming more comfortable, I am not yet completely at ease with this sense of trusting and waiting and accepting that when the time is right to do something I will know it. But I can also see the necessity.
I tend to think too fast, to latch onto an idea and rush forward headlong into the breach. Wait. Not. So. Fast… Wait.
Holy Saturday is a day of waiting, but not necessarily a comfortable day. Good Friday is past, but Easter is not yet here, and we only know it is coming due to the weight of history that has come before us. But past performance is no guarantee of future results. We must have faith. We must wait. Not Yet.
I am sure my own sense of waiting will not end tomorrow morning. Life is rarely so neat. Perhaps I'm not waiting for an answer at all. Perhaps waiting is not only a step to a goal but a goal in and of itself. To accept that the time is not yet, is to accept that the now is, in and of itself, enough.