The year was 1978 near the spring Easter season and my wife Barbara and I were on our first of many tours to the Holyland.  What an exciting trip and a special time to be in a holy place.  After much touring, we looked forward to the Friday that we would take the way of the cross and walk up to Calvary, the place where Jesus died.

It was on Calvary’s mountain that I envisioned hearing the cross of Jesus speaking to me.  As I stood reverently and prayerfully on Salvation’s Hill, I continued to gaze in awe at perhaps the exact place where the cross of Christ was planted.  It was as if I could hear the holy wood speak to me saying, “Even though you can’t see me, I live on in the hearts, minds and souls of mankind. Through the weathering of time I have crumbled into dust upon this holy hill.  I was stripped of bark just as Jesus was stripped of his scarlet robe on that dark day by the soldiers who cast lots to see who would possess the sacred garment.  I held Jesus between heaven and earth as we were both lifted toward the sky.”

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