It begins every year, in the weeks leading up to the celebration of Easter.
It is this indescribable hunger, this inner desire, this stubborn yearning...
To walk where Jesus walked...
To kneel in the Garden...
To stand on the Mount of Olives...
To look out over the Sea of Galilee...
To explore the streets of Bethlehem, Nazareth and Jerusalem...
Every year, and even now, the emotions well up in my heart, the tears flood my eyes...
The desire never fully leaves.
But, after Easter, I place it once again on the back burner of my heart... The Impossible Dream. It's always been just a dream. Until now! Now the cry of my heart rings... "L' Shana haba' ah b'Yerushalayim!" "Next Year in Jerusalem!" Next year, the Lord willing, I will walk the streets, pray in the Garden, sail on the Sea... and I can hardly wait.
It is this indescribable hunger, this inner desire, this stubborn yearning...
To walk where Jesus walked...
To kneel in the Garden...
To stand on the Mount of Olives...
To look out over the Sea of Galilee...
To explore the streets of Bethlehem, Nazareth and Jerusalem...
Every year, and even now, the emotions well up in my heart, the tears flood my eyes...
The desire never fully leaves.
But, after Easter, I place it once again on the back burner of my heart... The Impossible Dream. It's always been just a dream. Until now! Now the cry of my heart rings... "L' Shana haba' ah b'Yerushalayim!" "Next Year in Jerusalem!" Next year, the Lord willing, I will walk the streets, pray in the Garden, sail on the Sea... and I can hardly wait.
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