The moment of truth. Nothing I knew could save me. From the mountains of Italy to the streets of Baltimore is a very long walk and yet I returned to those mountains. Majestic, yes. But in all their immovable strength they could not offer me any of their unspeakable secrets. I carried them with me and circled them relentlessly until in total submission, I heard His voice. Unlike Moses, I was not ushered to Mount Zion but the voice was unmistakable and undeniably the Creator whom I now call
"Abba". I had my moment of standing on Holy Ground and
now a choice had to be made. Do I believe? Can I trust?
