Friday was dark. Dreary. Depressing. Hope was lost, condemned to die and nailed to a cross.
Saturday was quiet. Eerie. Waiting. Wondering. Hearts sank as the loneliness crept in.
Sunday was curious. Amongst empty tombs, Jesus-less linens and rolled away stones, hope spiked, if only for an instant. Commotion stirred. Wise men doubted what they desperately wanted to believe.
On Sunday, weeping women were met on the path by a risen savior.
And the new day was here.