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I look up and see him standing on a rocky ledge where the path abruptly moves upward. I walk over to the steep incline where Jesus looks down from the ledge and extends his hand to grasp mine. Leaning on my walking stick with one hand, I reach for Jesus with the other. With a firm grip he effortlessly lifts me up and over the boulders to the place he stands. I feel his calloused hand holding mine–he doesn’t let go.

I contemplate my pack which seems to have grown bigger than I remember; it is full and bulging at the seams. I feel the tension in my chest and the knot in my gut, and I just don’t want to keep going like this... so burdened and weighed down. I see a shadowy figure approaching. The figure draws near with a steady gait, and I know it is him. How I need him, but I feel so foolish in this struggle and angst.

Consider the dashboard of your car with all the gauges and warning lights; consider the dashboard for you. Are there warning lights and gauges for my life?