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Solitude. Its silence soothed every fiber of His being. Secluded among old, gnarly olive trees, He stood with His face uplifted toward the skies. Listening closely, Creation sang its own song. He closed His eyes, breathing deeply and evenly, filling each breath with scented breezes of fruit, blossoms and earth. Streams of light filtered through tall branches warming His cool skin in uneven patches.
He was exhausted …… in spirit, mind and body. Dropping to His knees, His Father quickly embraced Him, to sustain Him, to love Him. Before a word was spoken – before tears could fall – His Father was there.
In an instant, The Holy Spirit tended to His sorrows; lifting, filling and empowering, as angels hovered in attendance longing for the slightest command to whisk Him away from the leprous rags of mankind.
He didn’t move. He didn’t speak.
He received – His Father’s Love, received – His Father’s Strength, received – His Father’s Peace. Only this made it possible to walk one more step, to speak one more Word, to touch one more disease.
He will carry with Him this Holy restoration, for He knew what was ahead, and He will come back to this Mount of Olives soon … so very soon – with others.
But for right now, He will stay in this moment … just a little while longer …… with His Father.
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