The blind cannot see in the dark.
Yet Nicodemus comes in the night.
Yearning to find what has been hoped for.
The promise of the ages come to life.
Yet all he gets for his trouble are confusing words.
We never know if Nicodemus responds,
we don't know if he truly sees who Jesus is.
Something was touched in him that night.
Something that made him come out years later,
Into another dark night to help bury the one
In which he had placed so much hope.
Yet that is the way of death,
something new is born in the dark.
And we start too regain our sight.
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