Notice Him

Notice Him.

Recognize His way of appearing.

No one saw Him leave the tomb, but a few recognized Him, noticed Him, touched Him, spoke with Him, ate with Him.

A few.

In my experience, He initiates when, where, how long.  Sometimes I know.  Often my response is thanks or praise, but I’ll praise anyway.  Remembering helps.  But there’s no formula for remembering.  Allow surprise.  He may speak your name like He did to Mary in the garden, the first person He appeared to.  He may or may not let you touch Him.  You may have doubts and serious questions for Him.  That’s okay.  You may wish to thrust your hand in His side, or place your fingertips in His nail-wounded hands.

His voice may sound different than you expected.  He may be mistaken for the gardener.  Or, His hair might be white as wool and He carries a sword in His teeth.  You may be speechless.  Your heart might burn within you.  Your encounter may be enough, or you may ask for another.

You may notice Him in the way He places the clouds, or in the mountains, or in the song of a sparrow, the instinct of a newborn calf, the smell of grandpa’s pipe smoke.  You may notice or hear Him in the wind as you position yourself with your eyes closed to face directly into the windy gale or soft, almost imperceptible breeze.

How did the large rock sealing His tomb move away.  How could it not!   A few days before, the earth quaked while He suffered the crosses torture.  What makes us think any rock would stand in His way.  What then, in our lives, can prevent Christ, the risen one from moving into our hearts?  Moving in with resurrection style life?  Sin has no more weight when forgiven.  A stony heart can’t resist a God emerging from our deserved death!

Genuine forces, matters of addiction, oppression, doubt, and deception may appear formidable.  But the control is powerless and false, unable to stand when the rock sealing our heart, the tomb, starts to vibrate and shake with Almighty God Himself doing business, letting light, forgiveness, healing explode within.

For me, I get an image in my mind of a riled up stallion set free from his stall.  He displays his freedom in a surge forth, head thrown back, hooves flailing, nostrils flaring and snorting blasts of steamy breath.  His blood is hot and he searches where to enter into the battle.  To sacrifice. To protect.  To provide.  To produce life.

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