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Pop serves himself and then leans toward me. His gaze is direct when he speaks, “Daughter, what do you want to ask me? No question is off limits. What do you want to ask, or what do you need to say? I am listening. I want to hear your heart.” My throat tightens, I swallow hard and try to focus, desperately working to suppress the wave of emotion that rises. Despite significant angst within, I recognize the significance of Pop’s invitation.

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.