Between the Cross and the Empty Tomb

“And they returned and prepared spices and ointments, and rested the Sabbath day according to the commandment.” – Luke 23:56 (NKJV)

Holy Saturday is the quiet day. It doesn’t carry the brutal weight of Friday or the joyful triumph of Sunday. It sits in between—still, sorrowful, and unsure.

It was a day of rest, yes, but also of confusion. The disciples had seen their Master die. Their hopes had been nailed to a Roman cross. And now? Nothing. No voice from Heaven. No angelic announcement. Just a sealed tomb and a shattered heart.

But they still rested.

They still honored the Sabbath. They still obeyed. Luke’s Gospel says they “rested… according to the commandment.” Even when the world didn’t make sense. Even when their faith was gasping for breath.

That’s the beauty of the day in between. It teaches us how to wait. It invites us to trust in silence. It challenges us to worship when we don’t understand.

Because God doesn’t stop being God just because we can’t feel Him.

There are times in life when the waiting is long, and the silence is deafening.

Prayers go unanswered.

Dreams die.

Doors close.

It feels like hope itself has been buried.

But just because you can’t hear God doesn’t mean He isn’t speaking. Just because you can’t see Him doesn’t mean He’s not moving.God was doing His greatest work between the crucifixion and the resurrection.

So today, on this Holy Saturday, ask yourself:

Can I still trust when I don’t understand?

Can I still worship when I don’t feel a thing?

Can I still rest, knowing that God is faithful—even in silence?

Hold on, friend. Sunday is coming.