I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert!
I so often try to make a way on my own. My way.
I'm reminded this Easter Saturday at the hopelessness of the first Easter Saturday.
The doubt that so many would have been feeling when Jesus was buried.
But I thought...?! He said...?!
I've felt similar doubt lately. God, but I thought?! God, but you said?! I don't understand?! Why has this been buried? Where is your resurrection power?
Easter Saturday is a place of waiting. Of continuing to hope, and to hold on to promises.
Because there is always hope in the end.
More hope than if I try to do it on my own.
Sometimes the place of waiting is a long one.
Sometimes there are hard decisions that have to be made while we wait.
But I know that Sunday is coming.
That Hope lives, and good triumphs, and the way will be made.