As I walked up the mountain, I held fast to the hem of his robe. For if I could contact even that minuscule element of his majesty then I could be close to his godliness. I looked out at the city before us as we crowned the top of the steep hill that was flush with olive trees heavy with fruit. It was so quiet from up there, but the shadows still loomed. My heart was overwhelmed as we silently gazed out over the populus land. He grabbed my hand and held it in his own. It was a gentle gesture and my face didn’t even have time to flush with humbling, as I felt a rush overflow my being. The most indescribable compassion overcame me and I looked upon the city with new eyes. Through this perspective I had absorbed all of the suffering, hunger, abuses, and pain of the people that I felt in my heart were also myself. A tear fell from my eye and my breath caught sharply. He dropped my hand as gently as he had grasped it and looked into my eyes. What a burden He carried as our messiah, and yet what joy he held for the honor.
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