The Ones Who Remained
There is a kind of faith that reveals itself in quiet moments. It’s not the courageous declaration on a stage or other places where it is easy to be seen or affirmed. It lives in the spaces where something is required of us… where the cost is real, and the outcome is uncertain.
Joseph of Arimathea steps into that space.
He didn’t make a speech or rally the troops. He didn’t wait for permission from the people around him. He simply moved toward Jesus with intention and care. He offered what he had… his influence, his resources, and his reputation to honor the One he follows.
This is the kind of discipleship that often goes unnoticed. It’s steady, sometimes costly, and rooted in conviction rather than recognition.
As I read the story of Joseph and his bold actions, I cannot help but ask myself where I have chosen comfort over that kind of faith.
There are places in my life where it is easier to stay quiet or at least avoid saying what I believe because it might shift the mood or invite misunderstanding. This tendency to blend in is subtle- I notice many of us strive to remain agreeable- to hold back just enough so that nothing feels disrupted.
This year, like every other year during Lent, I read the scriptures that detail the days leading up to the Resurrection, and I see again that following Jesus has never been about maintaining comfort. It has always been about living in alignment with what is true, even when it requires something of me.
Joseph reminds me that faith is not only something I carry internally. It is something I live out, often in ways that feel small but matter deeply.
There is another kind of faith here, just as steady, just as present. Scripture tells us that Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting across from the tomb, watching.
They don’t leave or rush ahead to the next safe place. They wait, sitting across from the tomb, lost in their confusion and their questions, likely sharing their grief. They long to believe, so they wait in silence.
There is a faith in that kind of presence that feels just as significant as Joseph’s courage. Their willingness to stay near when there is nothing left to fix reveals a trust that doesn’t demand immediate answers. Their quiet belief lends hope to the promise that the story is not over.
I think about how often I want to move past the uncomfortable parts of my life. I quickly look for resolutions, clarity, and honestly, anything that will make the waiting feel easier.
This morning, the scripture seemed to ask something different of me. As I read, I felt a nudge to consider what it means to honor Jesus not only in action, but in presence… to explore what it means stay when things feel unresolved and to trust what I cannot see. If I profess to believe what He has spoken is still true, I have to believe, even in the silence.
I want to live out the quiet boldness of Joseph and the women who remained. I want a faith that is steady and sure rather than one that is simply safe.
I wants faith that chooses integrity over approval and that steps forward when it would be easier to stay back. I wants faith that nudges me forward when everything in me wants to move on.
So today, I am asking myself…
Where am I being invited to step forward, even if it costs me something?
Where am I being asked to wait patiently and trust in the unknown?
I want to be the kind of woman who does not turn away from either invitation… who steps forward when called and stays when asked, trusting that He is present in both.
Wishing you a blessed Easter.
🧡