Easter Sunday was full: full of hope, full of music, full of joy. We celebrated the resurrection with our closest friends, with voices lifted high.
But now it’s Monday. And for many, Monday brings a kind of emotional hangover.
Yesterday’s joy may have somewhat subsided. Life moves on. Projects will soon pile up. The inbox will be as full as it ever was. The world won’t seem much different.
Maybe you’ve felt it. It’s the quiet that comes when the music ends. The weight of the silence after the celebration. Maybe we expect Easter to last a little longer. And we end up feeling … disconnected. And almost guilty for not staying on the top of the mountain a little longer.
Don’t be discouraged.
The Christian life wasn’t meant to be a never-ending crescendo. Even Jesus had quiet days, lonely hours, and early mornings spent in the stillness of solitude.
In those moments, Psalm 46:10 reminds us: “Be still, and know that I am God.”
This stillness isn’t an aberration. It’s an invitation — an invitation to know, not just feel, that God is still God. He was God on Easter Sunday when we felt him in every song, and he’s God today when the world seems all so ordinary.
If today’s silence feels heavy, lean into it. Let it remind you that God is near, even when he’s quiet. Especially when he’s quiet.
There’s no need to manufacture any emotion, or attempt to recreate the excitement of Sunday.
Just be still. And know.
