The Middle Zone

Waiting in the unknown in the middle zone not seeing just holding on to what was spoken a token of hope, pressing into your palm imprinting it’s pattern to your skin reminding you again and again that this is the wait and not the end

Waiting because it’s all you can do waiting bringing questions can I believe in this truth unknown surrounds and darkness grows and you look for that one thing that promises hope

Today, as I sat drinking my coffee, no less than four people came up to the opticians next door to the cafe, expecting it to be open. All of them commented to themselves or companions that it was not what the website had said. All of them checked their phones a number of times, even though, as I saw on passing later, there was a clear sign explaining why the door was locked.

A stirring began in my soul and I noted down the observation, adding to it the thought that people had come, expecting sight or at least adjustment. Yet even where sight was not found, hope was not lost. The shop would reopen, they’d just have to wait until Tuesday.

I’ve seen many comment about Holy Saturday this year. In particular I have seen thoughts surrounding the disciples and their wait. The inability to grieve in alignment with the Sabbath and Passover laws. The confusion, the questioning, the darkness and the doubt. It resonates with me. This Saturday back in 2008 was the day I watched my mothers last moments. Waiting in the unknown, the middle zone, holding on to hope, that this is the wait and not the end.

Today however, I found myself thinking about the difference between the disciples wait and the ‘waits’ I see in my own life. We tend to read this story in knowledge of the end. The disciples did not know the end, they only knew Jesus had died. Maybe they thought about what He had told them, willing it to be true; we don’t know, we are not told. What they thought they knew about life was all they had. All that changed.

Our waiting, is different. Our waiting is lit up by the Resurrection. Our waiting is never without hope. So I pray for you as I remind myself; that if the unknown surrounds and darkness grows we can look to the one thing that promises hope.