If she could see Him, it would have been just the Remains, but there was nothing there. In the garden, it was chilly. The woman burrowed her fingers in the soil. Where was it all now? She needed something to scream at. Day broke, like the wound inside, just smashed it. If He wasn’t in there, in their man-made carved out tombs, then He was – where?
Moments later she sees Him, right in her face, breaking every last conclusion in her head. If there was a body it would’ve meant He was dead. If she could not see Him it had meant – He was alive???! The woman’s story sounded impossible, but it trails to where we try touch it. Pieces of its immortality (the Garden of Resurrection) went through me this morning; what a different story it would’ve been had she found the body, the dead body of Jesus.
A friend asks about when Answers are not visible;
how do humans know what is outside the domain of Humans?
We make choices, we live, we die. We make some rules, we understand some. We are a million emoticons, we destroy. We can do more than we ask think or imagine, but mostly we are limited by the visible. We are perpetually intrigued by the Invisible, we make movies and thrillers out of it, call it paranormal, supernatural. We are gravity bound; we know it is no secret what man woman or child can do, but we stop there to stare down that Cliff;
it is no secret what Empty places can do ; or what our thoughts do when we cannot see the necessary Truth.
It is a secret, a precious Truth – what happens when an Invisibility meets us up front ; where Answers wait. Eagles and angels dare where we like fugitives are chased by the Answers we search for. That insane moment when the Breath of Answers tear in the back of your neck like a streak of tigers;
you know it, like you know Love, and Hope and Pain,…. like you know when you are about to heal. No one sees it, but deep inside the mechanics of you shifts gear, changing, whirring, shifting like when an ache leaves.
There is no evidence of the Truth like the presence of lies,
like there are no Answers without Questions,
Darkness itself points to the Light,
Emptiness looks to Filling,
Pain is evidence of Relief,
Hate is the absence of Love,
War the mother of Peace
Empty places > the labour pangs of Fulfilling.
Perhaps there is Logic in the absence of all ‘illogical’ explanations of Faith; disbelief being evidence in itself, of this stubborn pursuit of what peeks back at us thru a ‘ …glass darkly’? I have no answer for my friend who asked a question earlier, except that perhaps Questing is track evidence of / to Visibility’s best kept Secrets.