Mother Mary waits, too. Yesterday she watched her Son suffer and die, and a huge part of her suffered and died with Him. Today she mourns in hope, remembering and trusting in His promise that after three days He would rise again.
Mary's companions wait also. Yesterday these women stood with Mary near the cross, weeping over the death of their Lord. Today they remain close to Mary, tears still streaming down their cheeks, listening to her comforting words and taking heart in her calm demeanor.
The apostles wait in grief. Yesterday all their hope died on the cross with Jesus. Today they don't know how they will go on without Him or what they should do next. Despair creeps closer as the day passes.
The guards at the tomb wait and wonder. Yesterday the Man inside was crucified, and even though He is definitely dead and gone, the Jews requested a watch to make sure His disciples don't steal His body. Today the guards feel nervous, perceiving currents in the air but not understanding what they mean. Nothing could possibly happen, could it?
Pontius Pilate waits and ponders. Yesterday he ordered a Man to be crucified, a Man he knew was not guilty. Jesus had talked to him about truth, but he didn't know what truth was. He didn't even know if there was any such thing as truth. Today, though, he has strong suspicion that the Truth is about to crash down upon the world in a way he could never have imagined.
The Jewish leaders wait, strangely apprehensive. Yesterday, to their great satisfaction, their enemy had died on the cross, and they figured they would have to deal with him no longer. Today they aren't so sure. Something is brewing; they can't tell what, but they are pretty sure they aren't going to like it.
We wait, too. Yesterday our Lord Jesus Christ died on the cross for us, to save us from our sins and reconcile us with God, to open Heaven for us, to give us eternal life. Today we quietly prepare for what we know will happen tomorrow.