Our visit to the Western Wall
November 15, 2015
Whitney and I walked up to the giant sand-colored stones squeezing in next to a woman of Asian descent. She was sobbing uncontrollably praying in another language and I could hear "Papa! Papa!" amidst the other words. I couldn't help but wonder if this woman was lamenting over the loss of a father. Something the two women beside her had been through and understood.
I thought how amazing it is that although we come from different parts of the world, have different customs and differ in appearance that pain is pain and that is something we all have in common and God is God. He is the thread of hope that connects us all.
I touched the cold stone and bowed my head. I immediately felt enveloped in God's peace. Tears began to flow because I had and overpowering sense of reverence for where I was standing. God took me on a journey in my mind that showed my life two years ago, filled with grief brokenness and the darkness. He showed me how far I've come and the milestones I've achieved since then and then gave me a glimpse that the ultimate end to my pilgrimage and work in this world; His redemption and second coming. I stood next to my sister who was also in tears and thanked God for all He has brought us through and for allowing these two Midwestern girls to follow Him and experience these precious moments in His presence.
It didn't seem fitting to pose and smile in front of such a significant site because of how undone we were at that moment.
They say those stones have a heartbeat and I stand testament as one who felt the pulse of God's presence at the Western Wall that day.