There are moments in life that no one plans.
They arrive quietly.
Unexpectedly.
And usually at precisely the wrong time.
I am thinking in particular of that moment in conversation when something is said… and then there is a pause.
Not a comfortable pause.
Not the sort of pause one associates with deep reflection or profound wisdom.
No, this is the slightly awkward pause.
The one where everyone briefly studies their coffee.
Or adjusts their papers.
Or suddenly develops a keen interest in the nearest ceiling tile.
Now, one might not immediately suspect that such moments have anything to do with resurrection.
And yet…
Easter has a curious way of appearing precisely in these in-between spaces.
Because the resurrection itself is, in many ways, God’s great interruption.
The disciples were expecting one story.
God was already writing another.
And in between those two realities — between expectation and revelation — there is always a pause.
A moment where things feel uncertain.
Unfinished.
A little unclear.
Rather like that conversation you were just having.
But here is the quiet grace of it:
The risen Christ does not avoid these moments.
He steps directly into them.
On the road to Emmaus — walking beside confused disciples.
In the upper room — standing among fearful friends.
On the shoreline — meeting those who had gone back to their nets because they did not quite know what else to do.
In every case, there is that same holy pattern:
Confusion.
Pause.
Presence.
And then — recognition.
Which suggests that perhaps we have been misjudging these awkward pauses.
Perhaps they are not interruptions to life.
Perhaps they are invitations.
Invitations to listen a little more closely.
To respond a little more gently.
To allow grace a little more room to speak.
Now, I will admit that this is not always easy.
There are moments when one would very much prefer to fill the silence quickly and move on with dignity intact.
But Easter joy is not in a hurry.
It lingers.
It waits.
It trusts that even in the quiet, something holy is unfolding.
And so the next time you find yourself in one of those moments —
mid-conversation, mid-thought, mid-sentence even —
when the words run out and the silence settles in…
Do not rush past it too quickly.
Take a breath.
Stay for a moment.
Because it may just be that Christ is already there.
In the pause.
In the stillness.
In the space where something new is about to begin.
Alleluia.
Companion Prayer
Risen Lord,
You meet us in the spaces between words,
in the pauses we do not plan,
and in the moments we do not understand.
Teach us to be still enough to notice you,
patient enough to listen,
and open enough to receive your grace.
Fill our silences with your presence,
our uncertainty with your peace,
and our lives with your resurrection joy.
And in every moment — spoken or unspoken —
draw us closer to you.
Amen.