By Sarah Shrader
Guest columnist
I am in a season of waiting right now, and I can tell you one thing, I am not very good at it. Patience may be a virtue (my mom preached that to me over and over again as a kid), but it is certainly one that is still under construction for me.
So, I started thinking more in depth about waiting this week – small time periods like seconds, minutes or days – to long periods like months or years. Every morning, Reagan and I are waiting on Maylie to do some last minute things before we can head to the bus stop (and hopefully not be late). Right now, we are collectively waiting for summer to come so we don’t have the hustle and bustle of the morning routine and my kids get some freedom from school.
The more I thought about waiting – since I am waiting in life currently and all, the more I leaned into the Bible and the stories of waiting in there. Many I knew well — Abraham and Sarah waiting for a son, Moses waiting in the wilderness — and some I needed to do some additional reading on – Job waiting through suffering and Daniel waiting and praying.
As Easter approached, I couldn’t help but wonder about another waiting that I feel like is all too often overshadowed (rightfully so) by the resurrection of Christ – the waiting that the disciples did from the time Jesus died until He rose from the grave. I mean, knowing the ending – and that the stone was rolled away, makes it really easy to skip the waiting part. We know the ending and it is so good!
But I couldn’t help but try to place myself in the waiting of those few days in between. What did the disciples feel during those days? Were they lonely? Did they doubt all that they had been told and believed to be true? Were they scared? Angry? Sad?
Without knowing the ending for sure at that time, I feel like the human in them surely would have come out. Even though Jesus told them what was to come – that He would rise – they must have questioned it. What if He wasn’t the one all along? I am sure they were overcome with sadness for the loss of a friend but were they also angry at the circumstances they witnessed and scared of what was to come?
It is so easy for us to forget this time of waiting, again, because we know that Jesus returns. But as I pondered their waiting, I could feel all of the same emotions in my waiting. Even though I pray and believe that Jesus will help and handle the outcome of my waiting, I have my moments where I let doubt creep in. As human as they come, I question the circumstances in front of me – have moments of fear for the future and throw myself a pity party for where I am. At times, I am Thomas who wouldn’t believe until he saw Jesus.
But I don’t stay in those emotions, thankfully, for the same reason I think we hear so little about the waiting of the disciples – because I know the ending. Because I know that Jesus will, again, pull through.
And I have had to ask for forgiveness more times in this period of waiting than I would like to admit. I want to walk among those who have not seen and yet have believed. But I do fall short sometimes. When I cannot see the future and what it holds, it can cripple me quickly if I let it. When it feels like the waiting is taking over my life and taking way too much time, I start doubting my belief.
Ah, but then the peace comes. That peace that Jesus hands out – the fear-crumbling, powerful peace that can only come from up above. And I pick up my pieces of brokenness and hand them back into the scarred hands that collected all of my sins and took them to cross. And I know that all will be ok – I just need to trust and believe.
The season of waiting can be difficult – almost suffocating at times. But I am thankful that throughout all of it, I am not waiting alone. For I know how it ends. And while the pain and the waiting in between can be dark, the story does not stop there – for the joy comes, at just the right time, on Sunday morning.
Happy Easter. He is risen!
Sarah (Pitson) Shrader was born and raised in Lima. She is a Lima Central Catholic and Tiffin University graduate. Sarah is a full-time working mama who enjoys writing about her somewhat crazy, always adventurous life as a mother. She lives in Bath Township with her daughters and writing inspirations, Maylie and Reagan.
