Would the real Saint Anne please stand up

We're in Nazareth. There's so much to say and I can't put any of it into words.

But here's the one thing I can share- today we went to the ruins of Saint Anne's church. Saint Anne is Mary's mother - Jesus' grandmother.

This church is just outside Nazareth in the place where Mary is said to have been born and grew up.

While we where there a group of Ethiopian Christians arrived on a pilgrimage.  Our guide mentioned that for Ethiopian Christians St. Anne and this site are extremely Holy.

Why, he didn't know and my 5 minute Google search hasn't given me an answer either.

However, now that the day and my emotions have caught up with each other. I realize that standing in the ruins of that church was one of 'those' moments. Those unqualifible moments in time that are just not the same as other moments, but you can't quite explain why they're different.

Being on a tour with 11 other people also makes it difficult to be present for those moments because we have been pulled in many directions all day.

It was only after arriving at our hotel that all the parts of me have caught up and I sat down and felt all of the emotions of the day.

It'll take longer to process. It'll take long for me to really catch up to everything we talked about, learned about, heard about today.

I don't feel quite so out of place this evening - I feel like I'm listening and waiting. All day it's there's been conversation around me 'this part of the scripture happened here',  and 'it's believed by one group it happened here, and by this group over there'.

Did Jesus preach in that place? was it that mountain, or that one, the towns people threatened to toss him off of?

Did Mary grow up here? Have the vision from the angel there?

Did the real mother of Mary live and die where this church stands?

Does it matter?

In this place it both does and doesn't. 

For me, I just want the space and the wind in the trees and the time to sit, listen and wait for the real Saint Anne to please stand up.