I can't help but wake up on Good Friday and begin thinking about what kind of day it must have been for Christ and his disciples. I have read about it of course, seen it on television and in movies, but I still can't even begin to appreciate the sacrifice he made for us on this day. It just humbles me that he would put himself up to this kind of torture so that he could save the rest of us.
Then on the Saturday of Holy Week I often think about the mindset of his disciples and his followers. Here they were, knowing the man they looked to for spiritual guidance, their messiah, had died and was buried in a tomb. There must have been a true sense of hopelessness and confusion. They go from the most life changing experience imaginable, following and listening to Christ, to total despair.
Just when they are probably the most convinced their lives have been wasted, he reappears. This is a reminder that when life seems the worst you have to know that tomorrow may bring total change. People were at there lowest low on Saturday, and by Sunday they were at the highest high.
