A bitter cold walk with Jesus

I would be lying if I said that everything in the lead up and execution of this mini pilgrimage has gone right. In fact, without going into details, I'd say far more has gone wrong than I was prepared for or really fully know how to detail with.

However, this trip to the Shire of Christ's passion in Saint John, Indiana is a memory that will linger. Walking a life size way of sorrows with Jesus, solemn music creating a backdrop, recorded narration at every station, was an awe-inspiring reverence.

I tracked slowly, station to station, careful not to slip on the slow and ice, praying to Him, drawing close as the cold wind stung my fingers even through insulated gloves.

At one point, I paused on a bridge and worshipped God in manifestation of a crystal-clear stream flowing water through channels of ice, snow blanketed all around. It was one of those scenes so breathtaking you don't even try to find words to convey it.

As I gazed out the window of the hotel, snow furiously lashing the skyline, I marveled at a God so beautiful even in icy desolation.

I, the Lord of snow and rain

I have borne my people's pain

I have wept for love of them

They turn away

Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?