The In Between.
Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Death and Life.
It’s the in between.
The hammering has quieted.
The piercing has ceased.
The crowds have dissolved.
It’s the in between.
The sun has come out.
The marketplace moves.
The gossip is whispered.
Wasn’t He King of the Jews?
Hadn’t He come to save us?
Didn’t He promise eternal life?
Were His words empty?
It’s the in between.
The guards have gone home.
The friends have all vanished.
Along with the hope.
It’s the in between.
The heads shake disappointment.
The tongues wag triumph.
The shoulders shrug defeat.
We must have gotten it wrong.
He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
He fooled us all.
He fooled me.
It’s the in between.
The grumbling.
The rumbling.
The ground shaking numbing.
It’s the in between.
Hope crumbles.
Faith stumbles.
Joy hangs her head.
It’s the in between.
Love questions.
Peace threatens.
The Saviour is dead.
It’s the in between.
Where the silence is deafening.
Fear keeps on threatening.
Faith grasps at straws.
It’s the in between.
Where we need to hold fast.
This too shall pass.
The stone is starting to roll…
