This week, across the globe, believers from every tribe and nation are pausing to reflect on the most pivotal moment in human history—the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. Holy Week is more than a tradition. It’s a prophetic mirror held up to the soul of the Church. It is a microcosm of life itself.

Each day of this week echoes with the rhythms of the human journey—victory, testing, betrayal, silence, pain… and then, resurrection.

Palm Sunday opens with expectation—the kind of moment that makes your heart leap. Jesus rides in, and the crowd sings. They wave branches, lay down their cloaks, and declare, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Matthew 21:9). There’s momentum, hope, and a strong sense that something big is about to break.

But it doesn’t unfold the way they imagined.

By Friday, the crowd has changed its tune. Where there were shouts of Hosanna, now there’s a mob crying, “Crucify Him!” (Luke 23:21). And by Saturday, we find the disciples in hiding—confused, disillusioned, and afraid. That’s the full arc of human experience. From joy to grief. From breakthrough to barrenness. From clarity to chaos.

But in the Kingdom, Saturday is never the end of the story.

See, this is the essence of Christian hope: God always has another Sunday. Resurrection is not just a doctrine—it’s a pattern, a rhythm of grace that defines the life of the believer.

You may be in a Friday—feeling pierced, abandoned, or misunderstood. Or you may be in a Saturday—where Heaven feels silent and the promises feel far away. But hold fast. In Christ, resurrection is inevitable. Not because you feel it, not because you see it, but because He said it. “On the third day I will rise again.” And He did.

This past week, I chatted with a man who had just lost his daughter to cancer. We had prayed. We had stood in faith. And still, the healing didn’t come in the way we hoped. With tears in our eyes, I was reminded again that even in grief, Christ is present. He doesn’t leave us in our Saturdays. His Spirit carries us, even when we don’t understand.

And just days earlier, we celebrated the birth of a new nephew in our family. The juxtaposition was striking—death and life. Grief and joy. And it reminded me: this is life in a fallen world, but we walk it with a risen Savior.

In Luke 24, the women arrive at the tomb only to find it empty. And two angels say, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen!” (Luke 24:5-6 NKJV). What a turning point! That moment rewrote human history—and it can rewrite your story, too.

I’m reminded of that beautiful old King James phrase, “And it came to pass…” Mark Lowry once said it’s his favorite verse. Because it reminds us: it didn’t come to stay—it came to pass. Friend, the season you’re in is not the end. In Christ, there is always more ahead.

Let’s remember what Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 2:9 (NKJV):

“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard,
Nor have entered into the heart of man
The things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”

This is the promise of resurrection. This is the substance of our faith. Let it stir you today. Whether you’re on the mountaintop or in the valley, the same Jesus who conquered the grave is walking with you, empowering you, and preparing something far greater than what you can see.

So let’s live with expectancy. Let’s lead with courage. And let’s proclaim with boldness: “He is Risen—just as He said!”

Happy Resurrection Day to you and your family,
– Merle