The Bible doesn’t tell us much about the Saturday between Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. The Gospel accounts tell us that Jesus’ friends hurriedly prepared Him for burial due to the soon approaching Sabbath.

We can imagine what they must have been feeling because we have all experienced the pain of loss and shattered dreams. It’s almost paralyzing isn’t it? After all, they had invested three years in Jesus (his family even longer). They anticipated He would overturn Roman rule and sit on the throne in Jerusalem as King and Deliverer. Instead of a throne, He now inhabited a tomb. Their future seemed to end with the load thud of a heavy stone rolling into place. That stone had an air of permanence and finality about it.

No pain hurts like the pain of unrealized expectations, especially when we stake our whole lives in those expectations and invest so much physically, emotionally, and spiritually. When things don’t turn out the way we had dreamed, life seems pointless. So what do we do when our dreams are dashed and our hopes are hijacked? Let me suggest doing what Jesus’ friends did.

… And they rested on the Sabbath according to the commandment. – Luke 23:56

They kept doing what they knew to do. They observed the Sabbath. They rested and they worshipped. They remained faithful even when it seemed pointless. I am sure they were tempted to abandon all faith in God, because, after all, they thought God had led them to follow Jesus. They thought He was God’s plan.

When we obey what seems to be the voice of God and things don’t work out as they should, the temptation arises to quit trying. What’s the use? Life may have buried your hopes and rolled a big stone of what seems to be finality over your dreams, but there is a truth we need to remember always: things aren’t always what they seem.

Your dashed dreams and awry plans are not the final chapter. God is still at work. Rest in His providence and wisdom. Trust Him even if it doesn’t feel like it. Friday may have been a tragedy, and Saturday may seem empty, but hold on . . . Sunday’s on the way.