“Sunday is Coming.” It’s true. I’ve seen this posted across socials and maybe you have to. The phrase Sunday is Coming celebrates and points us to the hope we have in the resurrection of Jesus after dying on the cross days before. And while I get the heart behind it and have probably said some sentiment or version of it, I had this thought today, as a griever, if we’re not careful, we can spiritual bypass the sacredness of the in-between, the space between the death and resurrection of Jesus. This article explores how to sit with the grief of silent Saturday.

Today is Good Friday, the day we as Believers recognize as the death of Jesus.
Not just any death. A horrible, gruesome, brutal death. Jesus was beaten beyond recognition, mocked, and crucified like a criminal. The One who healed bodies, calmed storms, and raised the dead, He died.
And not in peace, but in pain.

Those who followed Him, those who loved Him… they watched it happen.
They stood by helpless, heartbroken.
They heard His teachings, witnessed His miracles, maybe even experienced them.
And yet, they watched God made flesh breathe His last.
Do you think in that moment they were shouting, “Sunday is coming!”?

No. They grieved.

They didn’t skip to Sunday.
Instead they sat in sorrow.
They wept.
And they wondered.

They probably had spiritual amnesia, like me (and maybe you), the kind that hits you when you’re in shock or pain, when grief clouds your memory and you forget everything you ever knew to be true. They maybe even had “flat brain syndrome,” a term I learned from research, where our emotions flood our heart so deeply that our logic short-circuits. We can’t think or see clearly.

But the in-between is holy too.
Silent Saturday often get’s skipped over
But I believe it’s sacred.

It’s the day between what we recognize as Jesus’ death and the resurrection.
Between despair and deliverance.
Between heartbreak and hope.

It’s the space we as grievers know intimately. That long pause where prayers haven’t been answered yet. Where faith feels foggy. Where we’re barely holding on. This in-between is not a lack of faith. Instead, it’s a real part of the journey. Where Jesus entered into our suffering and now even into our waiting.

If You’re Here, You’re Not Alone.

So if you find yourself in a Saturday season, you’re not broken. You’re human.
Like Mary, who stayed at the tomb.
You’re like the disciples, locked in grief.
You’re like me and every person who’s loved deeply and lost greatly.
And while Sunday is coming, we don’t need to rush there.

We can sit in the silence.
And we can name our lament.
We can weep with the One who wept.
Because even in the silence, God is near.

If this resonated with you, I invite you to get a copy of my book Can You Just Sit With Me: Healthy Grieving for the Losses of Life.

In Can You Just Sit with Me? Smith provides personal stories, biblical reflections, relevant research, practical tools, and prayers that point us to God, who always sits with us in our grief. Whether we are grieving a loss or supporting a friend who is grieving, this book reminds us that every loss is worthy of the space and grace to grieve.

Get the book here.

10 Reflective Scriptures for Silent Saturday & Lament

Isaiah 53:3–5 (NIV)
He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain… Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering… and by his wounds we are healed.

Psalm 34:18 (NIV)
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Psalm 13:1–2 (NIV)
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?

Lamentations 3:19–24 (NIV)
I remember my affliction and my wandering… Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed…

Matthew 27:59–61 (NIV)
Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth… Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb.

Romans 8:24–26 (NIV)
…But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness.

John 11:35 (NIV)
Jesus wept.

Ecclesiastes 3:4 (NIV)
A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.

Job 2:13 (NIV)
Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.

Hebrews 4:15–16 (NIV)
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses… Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.