Easter and Healing: What the Cross Taught Me About Finding Hope
- Heather Robinson Roles
- 1 hour ago
- 4 min read
Friday: The Weight of the Cross
Some people talk about Easter like it’s all lilies and hallelujahs.
But for me, healing has looked more like Good Friday ... raw, cracked open, and unsure how the story ends.
Cancer will do that. Grief will do that.Being human will do that.
And what’s kept me grounded through the scans, the scars, and the days where I felt like a stranger in my own body , is this: Jesus didn’t skip the pain either.
He wept.He questioned.He carried weight that felt unbearable.
And then… He surrendered.
•••
I realize that some might see this as irreverent . Making Good Friday about me and my suffering. I don’t mean to compare my pain to His. I know the cross held a weight none of us could ever carry. But what I do believe, deep in my bones, is that He sees ours too.
That the God who bled for us doesn’t flinch at our bleeding.That the One who was broken doesn’t turn away from what feels broken in us.
So no, this isn’t a comparison. It’s a connection. One that keeps me steady when the path feels heavy, and the miracle still feels far away.
It’s what ties together Easter and healing, that holy reminder that the pain we carry is seen, and the hope we wait for is coming.
•••
Saturay: The Sacred Silenced
And then there’s Saturday. The day between the dying and the rising. The silence. The not-knowing. The waiting.
Nobody talks much about that part. But if you’ve ever walked through something life-altering; cancer, grief, trauma, loss, you know what Saturday feels like.
It’s the scan you’re waiting for. The hair that’s still falling out. The nights you pray but feel nothing. The mornings you wake up wondering if any of this gets better.
Saturday is where hope doesn’t feel holy, it feels hard.
And still…God didn’t skip Saturday either. Jesus stayed in the tomb.
His followers sat in their questions. Heaven was quiet.But just because it was silent didn’t mean God had left.
This in-between space is where Easter and healing meet most honestly, in the waiting, in the wondering, in the quiet trust that something is still unfolding.
•••
Sunday: The Quiet Rising of Easter and Healing
Easter morning doesn’t always feel like trumpets.Sometimes it feels like a quiet breath you didn’t expect to take.A moment of peace in the chaos.A scar that’s healing, even if it’s still tender.
But still; HE ROSE, and because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Not because everything is perfect. Not because we aren't afraid. But because there is a hope deeper than fear. A promise stronger than the pain.
The empty tomb means the story didn’t end in death. And if that’s true, then mine doesn’t either. Yours doesn’t either.
That’s the message of Easter and healing, not that pain disappears, but that it doesn’t win.
•••
When cancer stripped me bare. When my body broke. When I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror or in my faith. It was that whisper of resurrection that carried me. Not loud. Not showy. But steady.
A reminder that resurrection doesn’t always arrive with trumpets — sometimes it shows up as a quiet breath, a small step, a steady grace.
That’s the truth I come back to, again and again. The thing that helps me rise, even when I’m still aching.
Because He lives… there is always more to the story. Because Easter and healing go hand in hand, death doesn’t get the final say.
•••
🕊️ A Quiet Prayer for the In-Between
Father,
For the one still stuck in their Good Friday, hold them.
For the one lost in the silence of Saturday, stay with them.
For the one waiting on their own Easter morning, remind them that You are already at work.
Even when we can’t see it. Even when we can’t feel it. You are the God who stays, the God who sees, the God who rose.
Thank You for the sacrifice You made on Friday. For bearing what we couldn’t, for loving us through the worst of it, and for not letting death have the final word.
Thank You that because of the cross, we don’t have to earn hope, and because of the resurrection, we don’t have to fear what comes next.
Because You live… we do too, and we trust that whatever we’re walking through, we’re not walking alone.
Amen.
•••
Where do I feel the weight of Saturday in my life right now? And where — even quietly — do I feel something rising in me again?
How does Easter and healing show up in my life this year?
If you would like to read more about my journey, CLICK HERE or go to my home page and sign up for GRACE NOTES, a monthly newsletter of hope and healing.
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