Every year at Easter, I try and imagine what the original followers of Jesus experienced on the Saturday after Good Friday. The Scriptures are pretty silent concerning that day, which makes sense given the strict observance of the Sabbath. But don't you wonder what they were feeling? Jesus - who had proclaimed to them that He was the Son of God - was dead. And now they were alone. Hope had little company.
Feebly, almost in a whispering, trembling voice, I can imagine those first followers proclaiming . . .
Sin has lost its power,
death has lost its sting . . .
(to be continued . . .)
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