Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb. Bending over, he saw the strips of linen lying by themselves, and he went away, wondering to himself what had happened.
_{Luke 24:12 NIV}

As things take on a new rhythm around here, I am a bit uneasy about the stretches of empty space on my calendar. I honestly have never been here before. I’ve had a job since I was twelve, and a weekly schedule of things to do most of my life. As the dust of the crisis settles, I find myself much like Peter after he left the empty tomb, wondering to himself what happened.

The definition of wonder goes both ways. While it means astonishment and amazement, it also means a feeling of doubt or uncertainty. I see this in Peter as he left the tomb. I can imagine all the thoughts running through his mind. Thoughts of astonishment as he begins to connect what’s happening to his conversations with Jesus. Thoughts of doubt as he attempts to sort out what might have happened while he observed the Sabbath.

I get it. In the span of an hour, I consider with true amazement the reality that a little over eight weeks ago, the man sitting in his office right now could only take six steps with the help of two therapists. And in the next few minutes, I hesitate to think ahead even a few weeks, uncertain if I will be able to follow through with the plans I make. Doubt and fear creep in when I consider appointments that are months away.

Most of the time I’m somewhere in between.

This is the reality of transition. I’m beginning to see the days after the resurrection as a space in between what was and what will be for those who followed Jesus. It was a space to grieve their loss and let go of expectations. A space to wrap their minds around the miracle of life after death. A time to allow the trauma of crucifixion to make way for resurrection.

It’s easy to skip it, to move from Resurrection Day to Pentecost without much thought about what happened in between. But I’m finding a place to connect in it. And this is the whole point of scripture for me.

Seeing my story in God’s story
recognizing I’m not alone
in amazement
uncertainty
grief
gratitude
or somewhere in between.