Luke 23:53-56 - The Faith to Wait

The women didn’t try to rush the moment or force a miracle. They did what they could, then they stopped. They rested. Even in their heartbreak and confusion, they honored the Sabbath. That’s a kind of trust we don’t talk about enough—the kind that waits, even when nothing makes sense. This passage reminds us that sometimes faith isn’t about bold action; it’s about staying still when we’d rather fix everything. It’s about trusting that God is still working, even when we can’t see it. Holy Saturday holds space for grief and unanswered questions. And maybe that’s where some of us are—between what’s been lost and what we’re still hoping for. If that’s you, don’t rush past it. God moves in the quiet too.

Devotional: Holy Saturday is the quietest day in the story of our faith. The crowds are gone. The nails have been driven. The curtain has torn. And Jesus lies in a tomb, wrapped in silence.

We don’t talk about this day much. There’s no parade like Palm Sunday, no agony like Good Friday, and no celebration like Easter. Just stillness. Just questions. Just waiting.

And if we're being honest, that's exactly where many of us live—between heartbreak and healing, between death and resurrection. The in-between place. The day after everything fell apart but before anything makes sense again.

The women in Luke’s Gospel had watched Jesus die. They followed His body to the tomb. They saw where He was laid. Then… they obeyed the command to rest.

That might seem like a footnote in the story, but there’s something quietly powerful about it. In the face of grief, confusion, and dashed hopes, they chose to obey—even when it felt like God had gone silent. They didn't abandon the Sabbath. They didn't run from the waiting. They made room for it.

Holy Saturday tells us something most of us don't want to hear: sometimes the miracle doesn’t come right away. Sometimes God is working in ways we can’t see. Sometimes, the only faithful thing left to do is wait in the dark and trust that dawn is coming—even if we don’t know when.

It’s okay if you don’t have resurrection energy today. It’s okay if you’re carrying disappointment, fear, or uncertainty. Jesus knows what it is to lie buried beneath the weight of the world. But He also knows what it is to rise.

So hold on.

Because even in the silence, God is not absent. He is resting. Preparing. Moving behind the stone. And what feels like the end may just be the pause before everything changes.

Action: Give yourself permission to rest today—even in your questions. Sit with the silence. Light a candle. Write a prayer you don’t yet have the answers for. Honor the in-between.

Prayer: God of the in-between, meet me in this quiet space. When I can’t hear You, help me trust that You are near. When I don’t see the way forward, remind me that You are still writing the story. Teach me to rest, not because I’ve figured everything out, but because I know You’re still at work—even in the silence. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Thought for the Day: Just because it’s silent doesn’t mean God has stopped speaking. Resurrection is coming.