We wait in the in between space

without rituals, or liturgy, or script

We know the reality of the cross

… the suffering of Christ is ours, our suffering is His, intertwined as one

Paradox and purpose, promise and possibility, perplexity and prose

Like Mary Magdalene and the other Mary we wait.

Like them we mix

our anxiety and fear and sadness

with hope

With holy women (and men) the world over

living the Holy Saturday moments of their lives, caught in between the already and not yet,

we love.

We wait. We hope. We love. We pray.

In between.