Lord, you are Creator. I am created. I am not worthy to be your child. But because you love me you chose to adopt me, at cost to yourself. I was behind enemy lines, and in your journey to rescue me, you perished. That was the one moment in history where hope seemed untenable. All we could see on the horizon was death. But to my astonishment, life returned to your body, and where you had passed through enemy fire there was now a path. The path was ablaze with life, in shuddering contrast to the darkness and death on either side, and you offered to walk across it with me. Others began to come, and as our numbers grew I noticed you could hold hands with not just two of us, but with all who came. Somehow each person who joined the walk had your hand to hold, and we passed from death to toward life, knowing we were walking on holy ground. And all the while as we walked I couldn’t stop thinking that you came to get me and you died on the way.

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