The death seemed so normal. Little different from a thousand others who had come to a grizzly end at the hands of Roman barbarians. No matter who they claim to be, everyone looks normal naked, and everyone bleeds red.
Yet the death had also seemed cosmic. The sun had disappeared and the midday turned dark for an afternoon. The temple curtain had torn all by itself, starting at the top of its three storey height.
Something big had happened.
But that was yesterday.
Today there is nothing.
Shock. Pain. Anger. Sorrow. And kids asking what is for dinner.
Today is an enforced pause. A day comfortable with disappointment and disillusionment. A day when waiting is all there is. Hoping that somehow, sometime soon, God might do something immeasurably and mind-blowingly wonderful. But that seems harder to imagine that it did last weekend.
Waiting. But always hoping.