I am not very good at waiting. Maybe none of us are. I mean, who likes waiting in the check-out lane, waiting in traffic, waiting for spring, waiting for an extra hot, soy, 1-pump vanilla, extra shot latte, waiting for such-and-such to end and this-and-that to begin?
Waiting? Nah. No thanks. I’m a #TCB #GSD kind of girl.
What’s that, you wonder? I’m so glad you asked!
Let’s start with TCB. And before I go any further, you should know I’m a big Elvis fan. I think I was all of 14 when I belted out “Love Me Tender” at a karaoke party in my aunt’s garage. I was in love. Crazy stupid love.
Anyway, Elvis and his Memphis Mafia had a beloved motto, ‘Taking Care of Business – in a flash’. So there’s that.
And, GSD??? Get.Shit.Done.
#TCB #GSD. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Brianna! (in hashtag form)
But on this Holy Saturday, there’s no room for these hashtags. There is only waiting. Yesterday we experienced the ultimate portrayal of how deep the father’s love for us will go. But today, as Jesus remains in the tomb and all our hope seems lost, we wonder yet again, “Where’s the Father?”
I don’t get to TCB today. There’s no shit to get done. There is only waiting. Today we sit with despair, wondering, hopelessness.
Jonathan Martin poetically details the pain of this transfiguring Holy Saturday like this:
There is grace this Holy Saturday, for all kinds of in-between spaces. There is grace this Holy Saturday, for not being who you were, but not yet who you are to become. There is grace this Holy Saturday, for those in the liminal, shadowy place between crucifixion and resurrection.
On this Holy Saturday, the middle day that holds Good Friday and Easter Sunday and creative tension, there is grace. Grace in the waiting.
It is not a comfortable time and space, and though you may not recognize Me, I AM in it, waiting alongside you. Speaking your eyes wide open, illuminating faces, guiding Lights,
scattering flickers of hope and traces of warmth not only to sustain you…
but lead you by your willingness to holiness embodied, where we can reflect one another, altered—
Me wearing your humanity, You hosting My divinity.
It sounds too good to be true, but I tell you…
you will discover unmistakeable beauty
in unmade-up places.*
* Video from, The Work of the People
* Poem by, Kelly Ann Hall