We can sometimes find it hard to know how to relate to Easter Saturday – that day of intense pain, and the crushing loss of hope. And yet the last year has taught us the importance of recognising our emotions – and of giving ourselves space to lament. I wrote the following verses a few weeks ago, when I felt overwhelmed by so much – and before any lockdown restrictions had been lifted. In all my own personal losses, and when faced with the collective loss too, I have felt comforted to know that Jesus truly understands.

I pray that each of you is able to take time to stop…breath…cry…and grieve as our hearts cry out: ‘How long Lord?’ We do rejoice in the knowledge that Jesus has won the final victory, but we also recognise that so much of life currently feels like Easter Saturday.

We each desperately feel the effects of months of isolation and loneliness,
The shutting down not only of shops, churches and schools (for a time)
But homes and other social interactions.
Grasping at connection through a screen,
Fatigued by the constant online interaction,
Yet desperate to experience something of the relationships we are used to, and still crave.

The terrifying burden of seeing a loved one suffer, as the, or a, disease grips them,
And then being separated from them – doors close, and we enter our home again…alone.
Some make it through – others, sadly not – and we don’t all have a chance to say goodbye.
What are we to do with that pain?
As the death toll keeps rising, and the emotional toll on so many grows and grows…
We experience collective grief; 
At times feeling totally and utterly overwhelmed.

We try to cope with the agony of watching loved ones suffer so, so much,
Feeling helpless, while also struggling with our own emotional turmoil.
Exhausted and heartbroken, we drag ourselves around
Trying to support those around us, do our jobs and run our homes, 
While all the while what we simply need to do is…stop…
And breathe
And cry
And grieve.

How long Lord? How long must this go on?

We recognise we have each been affected in some way.
We understand we need to be compassionate to ourselves,
As well as to others.
And yet we are still expected to get up each day, 
Manage our households and our jobs, 
And interact well with those in our churches and our neighbourhoods.

Our hearts break for the level of suffering so many have experienced,
The intensity of situations so many have worked within.
And yet, for some of us based at home, very little has changed – 
Although so much now seems like it will never be the same again.
We come to you for comfort, for care, for strength right deep into our bones.
We were not made for such prolonged pressure, 
And feel like we are buckling underneath it.

God we cry out to you: Have mercy!