Saturday's Sorrow

It's Saturday. The day before Easter.
This day has always prompted a peculiar amount of thinking of things and people I don't normally think about. I think of the people Jesus ministered to during His time on earth. Particularly the ones involved in the miracles He performed. I wonder if Lazarus went to Golgotha and saw his beloved friend, and Master, being tortured and eventually hung to die. I wonder what he thought, being raised from the dead after rotting for 4 days. I imagine he was full of sorrow, watching the events take place. Jesus was his friend, and he loved Jesus dearly. I think about the next day especially. The day that would correspond with today. What would I think if i were Lazarus. Would I be sorrowful, and yet gleaming with excitement and expectation, that was lessening with each hour that Jesus remained dead? Or maybe my faith would be stronger and I would just stay excited and anxious to behold my dear friend and Messiah's resurrection? Would I be completely devoid of faith at all and think, "how could He actually die? It makes no sense at all! Where is victory?? WHERE IS TRIUMPH?!?" I hope that was not Lazarus' response, and I hope it would not have been mine, but I wonder.
Today was the first time I thought about Jairus' daughter. The one Jesus raised from the dead in Mark 5:21-43. Scripture says she was a "little girl" I wonder if being a child who was healed, and raised from the dead first hand by Jesus if she had different thoughts than Lazarus. I'm sure all who knew Jesus, and had experienced His miracles like she had we're in devastating mourning, but I wonder if she was like the angels who appeared to the women at the tomb asking "why are you crying? Didn't He raise me from the dead? Didn't He promise He would return?" and maybe she was hushed but the adults, ignoring her remarks because of her age. I wonder if she thought "What is wrong with these people? He's coming back! We need to get ready!! We need a parade, a party, a celebration for when He returns!"
I think sometimes it's easy to superimpose a quality of fakeness on these people in the Bible, but they were real, like you and I.
Take a moment and think. Put yourself at the tomb side on Saturday night (or whatever day it actually corresponds to). What do you think your response would be? I hope I would have a mix of great sorrow, longing, and expectation.

I am Lazarus
Heartbroken for Your pain, my friend
How can You die,
After what You did for me?

And I am the leper
No longer bound by this disease
For You set me free
But, how can this be?

And I am the daughter
Once lying dead after fighting hard
But You said “awaken”
Now are You just sleeping too?

I am the bleeding woman
Cursed and robbed by everyone
But my faith was in You
And You healed and showed me love
So how can this be?
Who can You be?
A magician? A madman? A blasphemer?
How can You heal me?
And then hang broken on that tree?
We heard that You said You’d return
But You lie dead inside this tomb

You said You’re Messiah
You said You’re Messiah
And here You lay
Beaten, broken, dishonored, despised
This can’t be the ending
This can’t be Your ending.

I am Your beloved
The one You died last night for
I know what You promised
I know what I must wait for
But now I feel empty
This sorrow to deep to simply pass
I will wait for Your coming
Please tell me again that You're coming back

You said You’re Messiah
You said You’re Messiah
And here You lay
Beaten, broken, dishonored, despised
This can’t be the ending
This can’t be Your ending.