When Blind See

I find myself in that place of overlooking what is 'hidden' in plain sight a lot.

Sometimes,  like my children hunting for Easter eggs, I keep checking all the old places again and again where eggs used to be hidden in years past, passing over the one right in front of my nose.  I know I already checked it, I know they are not there, but out of some quirky habit of mind, I have to double-check it one more time... and then again.

Mary did that on Easter morning. Last time she saw Jesus, His body was wrapped in linen cloths and laid inside Joseph’s tomb. First thing Sunday morning, the body wasn’t there. She went and alerted the disciples, assuming that the body was stolen. They came, confirmed that the body indeed was missing, and with nothing else left to do, went back to their homes, each to ponder the conclusions of their own.

Mary, however, didn’t leave. She lingered. Lingering is hard for those of us accustomed to fast-paced, what's-next, short-attention span, ADHD way of our world.

But, Mary stayed outside the tomb crying her eyes out.  

Heart has a way that logic knows nothing about.

Then she looked into the tomb again, as if to double-check, as if to make sure.  A curious thing happened then:

As she wept, she knelt to look into the tomb and saw two angels sitting there, dressed in white, one at the head, the other at the foot of where Jesus’ body had been laid. They said to her,

‘Woman, why do you weep?’

 “They took my Master,” she said, “and I don’t know where they put him.”

She just saw two angels but that didn’t seem to affect her at all?! As if she was blind to everything and everyone except for one thing. 

All she cared about was finding Jesus. 

And in her blind devotion, in her intense focus to find His body, she didn't see, she didn't recognize Jesus even as He was standing right in front her!