Your Breakthrough is Coming

As we’ve explored during this Lenten series, the weight of sin is often felt through fractured relationships with others and a breaking or broken spirit within us. It's often only during our weakest moments that we, in our human nature, acknowledge and surrender to our Redeeming God’s strength. 

Healing begins when we confess, repent, and surrender to Him because it first and foremost restores our relationship with Him.  His promise of salvation doesn't include a guarantee that our earthly circumstances will change –– only that we will have peace in the midst of them. 

Consider what the disciples must have been feeling on Black Saturday, the day between Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. The One they believed to be the promised Messiah; the One they had left their livelihoods, families, and identities to follow; the One whom they put their faith in to make all things right was dead. He had been mocked, tortured, and crucified, and now lay in a tomb. His defeat must have felt personal. Their hope was buried, literally. 

They had followed Him faithfully. They had sat at His feet, listened to His teachings, and allowed His truth to transform their lives. They, many from professions and backgrounds their society had disregarded, had recognized what the religious leaders had missed. Yet on that Saturday, they must have asked: “Did we misunderstand?”, “Was it all meaningless?”, “Where is God’s plan in this?,” and even, “Did we get it wrong?” 

Psalm 102 speaks to this kind of moment. It’s a prayer that sounds more like a groan than a song. The entire first half describes a soul in anguish. The NIV translates the title of this Psalm as “A prayer of an afflicted person who has grown weak and pours out a lament before the Lord.” 

It’s not a dignified or eloquent poem. It’s the words of someone who has almost given up on their faith. 

And yet God has preserved these words throughout the generations to remind us that lament is not a lack of faith but faith that still runs to God even when it doesn’t understand Him. 

Verse 12, the turning point of the psalm, shifts perspective from the writer’s physical circumstances to acknowledgement that God is sovereign, His love never fails, and He is always at work — even when He seems silent. 

Jesus’ death wasn’t an interruption to God’s plan; it was part of it. The same God who seemed silent on that Saturday was working toward resurrection on Sunday. 
 
And He’s still that same God now. 

Your story isn’t stuck. Your prayers aren’t ignored. Your waiting isn’t pointless. It may feel like Saturday — but Sunday is coming. 

In this season of Lent, as we reflect on our brokenness and our steps toward wholeness through surrender, repentance, and confession, let us also remember: faithful waiting is part of the journey. Sometimes God’s greatest work happens in the silence, in the Saturday moments, preparing for the Sunday breakthrough that transforms everything. 

This post is inspired by the fifth and final message of Mt. Bethel Church’s 2026 Lenten sermon series, “Broken Before God: The Path to Wholeness,” delivered by Dr. Jody Ray.