This comes from an email I recieved from my old roommate, Tumaini (nickname). She just moved to Africa two weeks ago.
Thoughts on Easter:
We met together on Good Friday night to have a time of singing and prayer, which was a blessing, and as we sang, the drone of the mosque echoed in the background. The next day, I thought about that contrast: that Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, so many years ago, had to be one of the greatest days of despair in all of history, for God seemed silent. And still He was not gone, because the Father was there, and no doubt upholding the disciples, though they did not know it. To their human hearts, however, all they knew was the Messiah had died, which was never supposed to happen. But their hope, and our hope, doesn’t die there, because Easter Sunday came. These people, however, worship and pray to a god who is eternally silent. I cannot imagine that despair. He does not act on their behalf, he does not comfort, he does not have a plan, he is not loving and gracious, he is silent. They live their lives believing and bowing to a lie, and we have been set free by the truth. The truth that God “…spoke in time past to the fathers by the prophets, [and] has in these last days spoken to us by His son…” (Hebrews 1:1-2) and forever continues to speak through Christ our mediator.