Waiting, Weeping, and Hoping: Three Reflections for Holy Saturday
Holy Saturday is the quiet in-between—the space after the cross but before the resurrection. It is a day often overlooked or filled with busyness, as we rush from Good Friday’s sorrow to Easter Sunday’s joy. But traditionally, it is a day of silence, reflection, and waiting. The disciples grieved. Jesus’ body lay still in the tomb. All seemed lost.
Because we know how the story ends, it’s tempting to skip over the waiting. But doing so may cause us to miss something sacred. Holy Saturday invites us into worship of a different kind—still, honest, and slow. Instead of rushing on, what if we entered into the stillness? What if we let ourselves feel the weight of sorrow, the ache of waiting, and the deep rest Christ has secured?
This year, let’s not bypass Holy Saturday. Below are three simple, guided reflections to help you engage this day: resting in Christ’s finished work, grieving honestly, and hoping deeply. Choose one—or walk through all three.
Reflection #1: Resting in the Finished Work of Christ
On the cross, Jesus declared, “It is finished” (John 19:30). With that final breath, the work of atonement was complete—once for all. His body was laid in the tomb, and on Holy Saturday, He rested. Just as God rested after completing creation, so Christ rested after finishing His redemptive work that secures our new creation—having triumphed over sin, death, and the powers of darkness (Col. 2:13–15).
We live in a world that applauds productivity, yet the gospel invites us into a different rhythm—one of grace. On this Holy Saturday, take some time to receive and respond to Christ’s finished work by laying down striving. Trust His completed redemption through Christ.
Resting doesn’t mean passivity; it means trusting that Christ has already done what we could never do. We don’t need to earn God’s favor because we already have it in Jesus. It is finished. So, take some time to rest in what Jesus has done. Meditate on these truths about Christ’s finished work:
Jesus has done what I never could. In His finished work, I can lay down my striving and rest.
When Christ was laid in the tomb, it was not in defeat but in triumph. I can rest today in the victory He has already won.
I do not need to produce or prove because the work is done. I can dwell in the rest He has secured for me.
Then take some time to reflect on these questions, making these meditations personal to you:
What specific burdens or pressures am I carrying today that I can release into the hands of Christ?
Where in my life am I tempted to strive for worth or approval rather than rest in grace?
How might I more fully embrace both my creatureliness and my redeemed identity in Christ as I rest?
In what ways am I trying to prove myself—before God, others, or even myself—and how can I surrender that today?
Close your time in prayer, thanking Jesus for finishing His work on the cross. Pray that you might rest in grace, not in your striving and to quiet any anxieties you may have in your heart with the peace of the cross.
Reflection #2: A Time to Grieve Honestly
“They stood still, looking sad… ‘We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.’”—Luke 24:17–21a
Holy Saturday is a day of silence, shadowed by sorrow.
The disciples were heartbroken. Though Jesus had spoken of rising, their grief clouded their hope. They couldn’t yet see resurrection on the horizon through their disillusionment and disappointment.
We can relate. Grief distorts what we know to be true. Maybe you're living in that in-between—where sorrow lingers, and resolution hasn’t yet come. You believe resurrection is coming, but the ache is real.
If that’s your experience today, don’t rush to joy. Lament. Pour out your sadness to the Lord. Holy Saturday invites us to grieve honestly, to bring our raw, unfiltered sorrow to the God who understands.
Even when God seems silent, He remains sovereign and faithful—never absent, always accomplishing His purposes. Whether you're grieving personal loss, aching for someone else, or mourning this broken world, take some time to bring your griefs to the Lord. If you’re not sure what lament looks like, consider using these prompts to express your sadness to the Lord.
This follows the traditional lament structure found in the Psalms. Fill in the blanks with either your own situation or pray for the hardship that you see in those you love or the world around you. Lament also creates space for repentance—not just grief over the brokenness around us, but the sin within us. Use these to help you approach the Lord as is appropriate to you.
1. Address to God: instead of carrying it alone, bring your cares to God.
O God, ____________________________, I come to You today with a heavy heart.
2. Complaint: put words to your grievance and distress.
I am grieving ____________________________ and feel ____________________________.
Why, Lord, does ____________________________ still happen?
3. Petition: plead with God to hear your cry and take action on your behalf.
Please, Lord, do not stay silent. Come near. I ask You to ____________________________.
4. Trust and Hope: despite your grief, hold on to what you know is true—God’s character, His promises.
Even now, I believe You are ____________________________.
I trust that You will ____________________________ in Your perfect time.
5. Vow of Praise: even if you don’t see the answer, commit to praising Him for his deliverance or intervention.
When You answer, I will ____________________________,
and I will praise You because ____________________________.
Reflection #3: A Time to Hope Deeply
Holy Saturday is the in-between—the space between death and resurrection. In many ways, we live there now, between Christ’s first coming as the suffering servant and His return as reigning King.
Unlike the disciples, we know what’s coming. Yet like them, we still wrestle with waiting. Maybe you’re not grieving, but it feels like nothing is happening.
Courtney Doctor writes, “Waiting, by definition, has something hoped for at the end of the wait.” This quiet middle requires us to hold fast—not only to Christ’s resurrection, but to the promise of our own. We wait for the sure return of Christ, when our bodies will be raised, sin will be no more, and we will dwell with Him forever.
This future hope fuels present endurance. That means we don’t need to escape the wait, but instead, we can cling to God’s promises with confidence, even when it’s hard. Though we long to see our Savior face to face, we can still experience the joy of His presence now—even as we wait. If this describes you now, work through these questions to explore this theme.
What have I been longing for that I need to bring before the Lord in hope?
How is God using this season of “in-between” to shape my heart or refine my faith?
What would it look like to wait with joyful expectation instead of anxious striving?
In this time of hopeful waiting, consider how you might engage this theme with one of the following, depending on what is most helpful for you today:
1. Personal Prayer of Hope
Where are you waiting for God’s deliverance in your own life?
What deep ache or longing can you entrust to Him again, with hope?
Write a prayer expressing your trust in His future faithfulness.
2. Intercession for Others
Pray boldly and hopefully for others who are waiting or suffering:
For unreached peoples and lost souls
For your family, children, or spiritual descendants
For church leaders, global leaders, and your local community servants
For the Church to endure faithfully and glorify Christ
3. Give Thanks in the Waiting
Reflect on what God has already done.
List the ways He’s been faithful to you in past seasons of waiting.
Thank Him in advance for what He will do in the future.