Somewhere Between Friday and Sunday: A Good Friday Post

Lately, I’ve been living somewhere in the dark between Friday and Sunday.  It's possible that I've been living here for years.

Let me try to explain.  Friday.  Friday is the day that Jesus willingly took MY place on the cross of Calvary, and bore MY sin and shame, because even though I’m not worthy, He didn’t want Heaven without me.  He loved me enough to die for me so that I can spend eternity with Him.  But thankfully, the story didn’t end on Friday.  Thankfully, Jesus promised that Sunday would come.  And three days later, Sunday did come, and Jesus victoriously arose from the grave, conquering sin and Satan proving to me and to you that all of His promises can be trusted.  If He says it, He will do it.  Sunday is proof of that.

Let me try to explain it a little more.  Friday.  Friday is the day that the bad thing happens.  The thing that turns your world completely upside down.  The thing that makes you question whether life will ever be okay again.  Friday is the day that hope packs up its bags and takes a hike.  The day that everything gets dark and you wonder if you’ll ever see light again.  The world keeps turning.  You look around and everyone around you is living life normally and you’re. just. stuck.  You can’t move.  You can’t breathe.  You can’t think.  Because Friday is real and Friday has happened.  Friday sucker punched you in the gut.  Friday stole your joy.  Friday.  

But Sunday always comes.  And Sunday is that day that I’m waiting for.  The day of healing and victory.  I can see it on the horizon and I know it’s on the way, but because healing hasn’t quite arrived yet, I’m living here somewhere between Friday and Sunday.

Today I’ve had another story of healing on my mind.  Another story about the dead being brought back to life… The story of Lazarus.  And I think about Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus.  You see, Lazarus was sick and it wasn’t looking good.  So Mary and Martha sent for Jesus.  Jesus was a dear friend of theirs and they knew that if anyone could help their brother, it was Jesus.  Jesus’ disciples told Him that they should go quickly because Lazarus was sick, but Jesus told His disciples, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.”

I’m sure that Jesus’ disciples sighed with relief after hearing His words.  Lazarus wasn’t going to die!  Jesus said so!  But I wonder if they started to get nervous as Jesus took His time about leaving to head to Bethany to be by Lazarus’ side.  He waited two more days before He even left.  Jesus then told His disciples that their friend Lazarus was asleep and that He was going to wake him up.  They didn’t quite understand what He meant by this though- so He explained to them that Lazarus had died.

I can’t imagine how confused they must have been.  Jesus had told them that Lazarus’ sickness would not end in death, but now He’s telling them that Lazarus had, in fact, died.  

By the time that Jesus and His disciples arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had already been dead and buried for four whole days!  Martha met them as they were coming into town and told Jesus, “My brother is dead! And if You would have been here, he would not have died!”  Jesus tells Martha that her brother would live again.  He explained that whoever believes in Him will live and will never die.  

As they come into the city, Lazarus’ other sister, Mary, meets them.  When Jesus sees Mary and the other friends that were gathered with her weeping, He weeps with them.  We are told this in the shortest verse in the entire Bible-  “Jesus wept.”  

I’ve camped out here today a little bit, thinking about Jesus weeping.  Thinking about how deeply Jesus felt for His friends.  Jesus knew that He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead, so He certainly wasn’t weeping for Lazarus, was He?  I believe that He was crying because He felt so intensely the feelings and grief that Mary and Martha were feeling.  And I’ve been thinking about my own feelings and grief- and wondering if Jesus so intensely feels these feelings with me.  And I think that He does.  I think He feels with me and weeps with me while I’m lingering here between Friday and Sunday.

But back to Lazarus’ story.  Jesus wept with his sisters.  He asked where Lazarus had been buried and then asked for the stone to be removed from the tomb.  Mary told Jesus that it would surely smell horrible because her brother had been buried for four days!  But Jesus told her that if she would only believe, then she was about to see the glory of God.  So they moved the stone.  Jesus looked to Heaven and said, “Father I thank You that You always hear Me.  I know that You always hear Me, but I pray that the people standing here today will believe that You sent Me (paraphrased by me, of course.)”

Then the Bible tells us that Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”  

And out walks a dead man, yall.  

Lazarus got his Sunday.

So here I sit, somewhere between Friday and Sunday, and I’m thinking about Jesus and I’m thinking about Lazarus and I’m thinking about healing.  I think about how Mary and Martha sent for Jesus when Lazarus became ill.  And how Jesus didn’t come right away.  And I think about all the times I’ve cried out for Jesus and I’ve begged, “I need You to fix this!  Please, fix this NOW.  Please make this better.”  And I’ve waited.  And it’s felt like Jesus has took His sweet time showing up, just like I’m sure Mary and Martha felt like Jesus took His time getting to Bethany.

But the amazing thing is, Jesus’ timing is not my timing.  And He always shows up right when He needs to show up.  And I praise Him for that.  If He would have showed up and “fixed” everything the minute I cried out to Him in desperation, I would have missed out on seeing His glory, time and time again.  Over and over again.  Always His glory.  

He could have healed Lazarus.  He could have kept death away.

 

He could fix everything going on in my world with one word.  Some days I feel like I’ve been in a tomb for about four days now.  And He could fix that.  

But He’s trying to show me His glory.  I know that and I trust that.

Because Sunday is coming, I can face tomorrow.

So here I am- Sitting somewhere between Friday and Sunday.  But I do know one thing.  I know that Sunday is coming.  I know that Sunday is closer today than it was yesterday.  I can see it in the distance and it keeps getting closer.  I know Sunday is coming and I’ll never be so glad to see it when it gets here. 

But until then, I’ll trust Him in the in between.  And I’ll even thank Him for Friday because without Friday, I would miss His glory.  And I never want to miss His glory.

Without Friday there would be no Sunday.  So I’ll praise Him right here in the in between….