A rutted, red-dirt road wound its way to the summit of the hill, on which stood a cross. All the way up stood marble ‘Stations of the Cross’, and as I sat by one of them, I had a vision of Jesus, battered and bloodied, bowed under the weight of his cross, struggling up a hill like this. I heard the jeers of the crowd and witnessed the look of sorrow and pain as he staggered to the place of his execution, not on the island of Gozo, where I was, but on the hill of Calvary.

  

Then I saw the cross, and Jesus’ lifeblood flowing down to wash me clean from all my sins and shortcomings. I turned, and saw the rest of my life, like a golden road running down the hill and snaking out over the dark moor of the world. I knew that, by accepting Christ’s sacrifice on a daily basis, he would light up the road as I walk it in companionship with him.

Prayer: Lord, teach me your ways, and never let go of my hand on the road of my life. Amen