We wait in silence. It’s the kind of silence that makes us fear something will leap out at us from any corner. And maybe the apostles wished something would; anything to give them space to breathe in the oppressive disappointment. Too bad they didn’t get to read the end of the story.
You know, I wonder for how many people this is just a normal Saturday afternoon, watching TV or mowing the lawn, oblivious to the wonder that has been taking place in preparation of Easter Sunday. I know it’s not everyone’s tradition or religion to observe it, but is it really possible not to feel the quiet suspense in the air, to see the unchanged streets as somehow different, to long for the joy that must be coming?
My friends and readers, may we walk hand in hand to the end of the road. And the beginning of the sky.