I found it in a garden. Trimmed away from a bush, ready to be disposed of. Who knew it would become my favorite souvenir from the Holy Lands. A clipped bit of a thorny bush, heaped in a pile with other thorny clippings, ready to be hauled off. It’s a seemingly insignificant little bit of thorns and yet to me, it’s an important part of Holy Week.

In the last 48-hours, I have been lazy, spent too much time scrolling on my phone, withheld information from Hubby Rick and thought about things that should have me run right out of town. I have spoken negatively about someone else, told white lies, gossiped and portrayed myself more highly than I ought. I have withheld forgiveness, wanted to draw attention to myself unnecessarily and avoided helping someone that I had the opportunity to assist. I am not a perfect Christi

Recently, I read the most interesting statement. One that has sat with me the rest of the week. Words that I have returned to so many times. The words “listen” and “silent” have the same letters. They are just in a different order.