Don't remember much of it, but the idea of waiting.
What will happen, if anything?
For the disciples, it was all over.
It was finished.
I mean, finished.
No one expected anything but death.
Death is like that, I guess.
It's the final word for us.
It's the final word for Jesus, too.
I think It's Holy Saturday only in retrospect.
So the in-between time is hallowed.
Death holds on.
Even death is given its day.
For awhile, so the story goes.
But that's tomorrow.
Today, I'll wait.