It’s been a hard day.
That seems like an awful way to start a blog post, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind, and also? It’s the truth.
Last night, a few minutes after the Good Friday service, a friend asked if I had anything planned for the rest of the evening. I mentioned a thing or two, eventually ending with, “I know I’m supposed to write a blog post for tomorrow, but honestly I haven’t started it yet. I know what God wants me to say, but I’m not entirely sure how to say it.”
And then I went home and did everything except write a blog post.
It’s not easy to talk about the hard stuff, the story-lines we never would have chosen.
I woke up thinking about the confusion, heartbreak, and silence of Saturday, the great in between of Good Friday and Easter morning.
As the Church, I think sometimes we’re a little too quick to move from pain to promises fulfilled, from questions to answers, from broken to mended, from Friday to Sunday. Personally, I’ve found that most of my story happens in the in between. It’s where He asks me to trust and believe in the middle of the pain, the questions, the brokenness.
And so is it anything but ironic that I began writing my book, the one titled Even If Not: Living, Loving and Learning in the in Between, two years ago on the Saturday of Easter weekend? (You will never be able to convince me that God doesn’t have a sense of humor.)
At the time, I thought I was drafting a blog post about living in the tension. I attempted to put words around the idea of walking in the darkness while carrying the Light. I admitted my personal battle with spiritual warfare and even wrote about the brand new, two-days-old tattoo marking my foot, the one that says “out of darkness, light.”
All the while, I had no earthly idea that those very words would sit untouched, drafted and left in a Word document for several months, only to one day be printed in chapter seven of Even If Not. Yeah, you know, the chapter titled darkness & light.
I thought I was drafting a blog post, but God had more in store.
Last night, I thought I would write a post about the in between of Easter, encouraging you to say “even if not” while you wait for the page to turn.
But God had other plans for my day. Instead of writing about the message of my book, He asked me to live it out.
Right now, I don’t know what story the next page will tell. But I do know that I trust the Author.
It’s nearly midnight, which means Easter morning will soon dawn bright and full of hope. In just a few hours, I’ll put on a colorful dress and celebrate, arms raised in worship even if tears decide to fall. Because we know it, those of us living in Saturday: the story isn’t over.
Saturday teaches us to wait while clinging to hope when all seems lost. It teaches us to gather together and look for the light. And so that’s what I’ll do tomorrow, and I hope you will too.
Even here — maybe, especially here — we find that He is good, He is God, and He is working all things together for His glory and our good. For those walking through Saturday, I’m praying for you tonight. May you find Him in every in between.
I’ve never thought of comparing the Saturday in between Good Friday and Easter to the in-between areas of our lives; I like it!
I like your prayer, too. Part of it reminds me of the song that begins, “Light of the world, You stepped down into darkness, opened my eyes, made me see…” and continues: “Here I am to worship, Here I am to bow down, Here I am to say that You’re my God. You’re altogether lovely, altogether holy, altogether wonderful to me…”
This triggers thoughts of those times when the Light of the World, Himself, spent time in darkness: born at night in a stable, praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, hanging on the cross while an unnatural darkness fell upon the land, in the darkness of the tomb, and so on. And He is still the light of the world in our dark times.
Kaitlyn – I stumbled across your blog almost two years ago, (and got on your email list) when we were neighbors at a linkup and I was struck then as I am now by 3 things. Your transparency, your obedience to God, and your vulnerability. You are young, but you have a powerful message. You are so right – we live in the in between, but we don’t like how it makes us feel sometimes, because, its in these in between places where we have to deal with silence, waiting, healing, forgiving, etc. Thank you for sharing this message today at #SpiritualSunday where we are neighbors once again…. and thank for being obedient to write the message He has asked you to write, and to live the message He has asked you to live.
PS.. if you are looking for another place to link to on Thursday’s I would love if you would consider joining my new linkup #TuneInThursday – it opens Thursday 3am PST and runs through Sunday night. you can find it at debbiekitterman.com/blog (Please feel free to delete the link if you think it inappropriate).
Debbie, thank you for your kind words! (P.S. I’m glad you’re an email subscriber friend!) I don’t participate in link-ups very often, but how funny we’ve been neighbors a few times. :) Good luck on yours!
Yes, we do spend a lot of time in the in between – longer than a Saturday – sometimes months or years. But I believe that even in the in between as Christians all things are working for our good. May we not give up in the in between – but keep exercising our faith until our momentum shifts.
Stopping by from #DanceWithJesus Linkup
nylse recently posted…Samson’s Women Trouble
It is always encouraging to look back on other in-between times and recall how God was with you then. That knowledge shores up your faith for the current in-between you are facing. He works in ways we can not fully understand and that is what makes our stories such page-turners. I will be praying for you and your family to be filled with God’s peace as you await His answers to your prayers.
Terisa recently posted…My Word for the Year – Intentional
I agree, looking back on all the ways He’s been faithful in the past reminds us that He’ll continue to be faithful both now and in the future.
Yes, most of our story happens in the in-between. Such good thoughts. Thank you for the encouragement. And yes, I will pray for your family!
Hard turns to beautiful. Pain and struggle can too when we await the Risen Lord. But while in it, we just do not know. This a such a fine post, Kaitlyn. It touches a place deep inside me this afternoon as I ponder the time, the place, and those “even if not” moments and times. Thank you, thank you. I have been blessed here today.
~ linda recently posted…After Easter Comes What?
Yes… even if not.
Kaitlyn, this is a thoughtfully written post. I will pray for you, and I appreciate your honest sharing.
Thank you Sarah, I appreciate your kind words!
I truly understand this. I love that phrase, Sunday’s Coming, but even though He sees us crucified and risen with Him, perhaps we don’t. We should but don’t when all the days seem to run together and I’m doing laundry late and blogging into the night, it is like a spin cycle. That’s really why we as women must learn to rest.
Kaitlyn, Thank you for your encouragement for the in between times. I’ll carry it with me. I’ll be praying for you and your family.
Thank you so much, Leslie.
Dearest Miss Kaitlyn,
Thank you so much for sharing your story with us. I appreciate the raw honesty and the encouragement. GOD always has a way of showing us what we need to hear and tonight I needed this gentle reminder that between the broken and the mended, there is the healing processes… Praying for you and your family tonight. Thank you again.
This side of Heaven,
Thank you for taking the time to comment, and I’m grateful that it met you exactly where you are. :)
So much truth in this: “As the Church, I think sometimes we’re a little too quick to move from pain to promises fulfilled, from questions to answers, from broken to mended, from Friday to Sunday.” Praying for you too!
Just ready your beautiful post and whispered a prayer on your behalf. May God meet your every need. Hugs!
Thank you! <3
Although this wasn’t the post you’d planned to write, it was immediately obvious that it was God’s. Joining in prayer for you and your family.
Thank you Cathy!