Today seems like a pause in the Easter happenings. The Lord, our Jesus, our Saviour, is in the tomb and the Christian world awaits the great miracle of Resurrection. But what was happening then.

Everyone was in a state of depression and confusion. Like sheep without a shepherd, whose shepherd was in fact slaughtered, they faced a truly human defeat. In their eyes the great movement was dead with its leader and the enemies of Christ had won the day. Humanly thinking, how could someone so destroyed rise from death. Yes, He was God. But how could He forgive humanity who had so thoroughly rejected Him; and even further, why would He return to be with those who had lived and worked with Him, had witnessed up close the daily miraculous deeds He performed and yet, when the rubber hit the road, had run away and deserted him like cowards.

Yet, there was one who never failed Him. One who knew everything about Him. One who had stroked His silky head and watched Him as He slept; cuddled Him and healed His scraped knees and wiped His tears with total loving kindness. One who had kept Him clean, fed, clothed and loved and had stood with loyal supportive courage below His dying, dirty, naked, battered, despised body and with all her strength supported His work of that day, our redemption.

She, and she alone, waited through the night of Friday, the day of Saturday, the night of Saturday and the morning of Sunday, holding both her hands clutched around her faith, hope, and love. Waiting....waiting.....waiting with faith in God that this was not the end but the beginning, that she was not abandoned just temporarily separated. Waiting in hope that she would see her Son and her God again, healed, strong and victorious. Waiting in love that He would heal and strengthen the deserters and the fearful and that She would kiss a face that wasn't bruised, battered and cut; kiss a forehead that wasn't pierced with thorns.

Today, take a moment to thank the Immaculate for all she gave to God and to us on Holy Saturday.