They remembered Friday.
How could they not? The sounds of nails. The cries of pain. The whispers of confusion. The sky turning dark when it should have been day. The Son of God hanging, bleeding, forgiving. Dying.
They remembered.
And so must we.
Good Friday is still good, even when it feels everything but.
It is good not because of what it looked like, but because of what it did. It carried the weight of sin. It carried the voice of Love.
It carried us—through death toward life.
Then came the silence.
Saturday.
No sermon. No miracle. No voice from the clouds.
Just silence. And sorrow. And questions.
Some of us live in Saturdays.
Not quite sure if Sunday is really coming. Not quite sure if hope will return.
But maybe Saturday is where faith breathes the deepest. When we can’t see what’s ahead, but we choose to believe anyway.
Then, Sunday.
Not just another day.
The day.
The stone was moved. The tomb was empty. The silence was broken. And Hope walked out. Alive.
He is not here—He has risen.
So we remember.
Not just to mourn the Cross. But to embrace the One who carried it for us. Not just to sit in the silence of Saturday. But to lean into the mystery of God’s timing. Not just to cheer on Sunday. But to live every day as people of Resurrection.
Let this weekend not be routine.
Let it be a reminder.
Of what He did. Of how He loves. Of why we follow.
Because Friday proves His love. Saturday reminds us to wait.
And Sunday shouts that death doesn’t win.
Pause. Reflect. Remember. Rejoice.
He is alive.
And so are we—because of Him.
This blog is a great reminder of how we must remember and observe each step of the Easter story. It can be so easy to get caught up in the low of suffering and the high of His resurrection that we forget Saturday. I think that Saturdays are where we spend most of our time, in the silence, in the waiting. This blog reminded me that even in the midst of silence that I can have hope in looking to the resurrection that is to come!
This is a great Easter story. I have always wondered what it would be like to be there when all of this happened.
Thank you for this reminder of that Saturday. To be honest, I am not sure if I have truly ever taken the time to sit and ponder that day. I feel as if it is often skipped over. Thank you for reminding me of the importance in the days like that Saturday- the silence, no miracles, no voice, but sorrow, questions, and waiting. I love this line: “Saturday is where faith breathes the deepest.” When we cannot see, but still believe. This is us now. Though we have not seen Jesus, and some days may feel like that Saturday, we still hope. We still believe. We still have faith.
The ending shifts beautifully from history to identity: “He is alive. And so are we—because of Him. ”That transition from “remembering the event” to “living the reality” is transformative. It reminds us Easter isn’t just a celebration of something past, but something active and present in our lives.