I woke on a dusty road. It was the path of my life.
The dust swirled about me on my knees and I felt warm because there were footsteps beside me, guiding me.
Hands that held me and helped me along.
Dark still, early morning sun rising along the tree line. I could not make out the faces.
The road was well trodden. I noticed that many had walked it before I, and the people I walked beside had been walking for some time.
Rising up to my feet to take clumsy steps and falling, calloused hands brought me up again.
My brothers and sisters slowed to allow me to keep pace, but as the sun rose in the sky I found my sturdy gait.
We stopped by a field because my sister began to tire. A tall, green hill stretched out of the flat land.
We saw a shepard come down from the hill toward her. He smiled at her with love in His face.
He picked her up and cradled her in His arms for she could no longer walk. We all watched as they crested the hill.
We were small in number and with one of our own gone we tightened our ranks.
Gazing sternly, solemnly, sadly towards one another we rose as a group to carry on. We noticed ourselves in the midst of a valley.
We found a river in the valley. Each of us had his turn to walk across and yet none could.
The river twisted and swirled in it's eddies and we noticed that those who went too far alone were swept away.
Finally hand in hand, arm in arm we steadied each other and slowly we forded the river.
More to follow.