I awoke to the morning reveille of the sun mustering it's rays for the day's mission; disappointed that I was still 'here', wherever 'here' was. All I knew it wasn't where I reckoned I should be. I don't belong here. An uneasy trepidation crept in. What if I really am stranded in history? Can I change its course; or has my presence in the past already been accounted for in the future? I sat still a moment, realizing that if I really believed God was omniscient; then He knew where I was and maybe it didn't matter after all?

Any how! The task ahead seemed insurmountable. I had to find clothing and food; and with no plan of how to do so, I tried not to panic. It wasn't working though! Feeling overwhelmed and very afraid, I just laid there and cried. There didn't seem to be anything else I could think to do at that moment.

Suddenly, I heard the skittleing of stones rolling and bouncing down the hill. I knew they weren't very far away, so I moved with caution. I crawled over to a small crevice in the direction I figured this loose earth was skipping to. I hoped it was just an animal, though at that point, I'd wished I had a gun.

I grabbed my binoculars as I quietly crept up on the mysterious noise. Peeking around the rocks, I saw a man on the ledge below me about a hundred feet away. I peered at him through the scope of high power definition. He was unarmed and dressed very plainly; but also apparently having always been a civilian, for he had absolutely no knowledge of how to execute a covert mission. Well, you're certainly not a threat. I chuckled at his innocent un-stealthiness, as he glanced in my direction and then panned the horizon for something he didn't seem quite certain of.

He carried a satchel over his shoulder, which he took off and laid on a rock. His demeanor was calm as he stood, seemingly waiting for something? He glanced back in my direction one last time, before walking away from the satchel. I watched until he was all the way to the bottom and heading back toward the city.

I wondered who he was and how he seemed to know I was here? I must be within the time frame of the writing of the New Testament; I reasoned, because if I wasn't, no-one would have received any revelation that I even existed. This man must have somehow been directed by God, I finally decided; so therefore he must be trustworthy.

With a deep breath and some newly encouraged reassurance, I went to check out this satchel. Crawling down into a place where I could see it better, yet still cautious; I picked up a rock and threw it at this mysterious bag. It landed with a dull thud in the middle of the sack and since nothing happened, I was pretty confident it didn't contain any surprises. Relieved that the prospects looked good, I crawled down the rest of the way, retrieved the satchel and climbed back up into my hiding place.

Curiosity was now eating my brain, as I sat fiddling with the latchets, seeming nearly desperate to get them apart. I was finally successful and carefully opened the bag for my first peek at it's contents: clothing, food, and an animal skin bottle of some sort. How could this be I marveled, now even a little frightened by such unexpected details. All my needs were in this bag and how, or why was just beyond my comprehension.

Once I could finally stop perseverating over how this satchel came into my possession, I was ready to take the next step. I hurriedly exchanged my clothes and crept back down the hill toward the road. I paused for one last minute, contemplating eating this little meal before I abandon the bag altogether. The food seemed good and there was plenty of it. I was just too nervous to get it into my mouth and passed the fear of choking on it. A little voice kept advising me to calm down, slow down and take it easy; but I didn't want to listen. Finally, with a deep breath and the goading of a little recognized virtue called common sense, I quieted enough to sit and eat breakfast.

After I finished, I came to the conclusion that this little reprieve really was a good idea, for now I felt better. I wasn't necessarily less antsy, but at least I could think more clearly. I sat a while pondering whether I should go into the city to see if I could locate this man, or just wait for him to return? After all, he was the one who knew where I was; I didn't know where he was. The answer was obvious, so I sat and waited.

I peered around with my binoculars, hoping I'd find him somewhere in the crowds. I finally spotted him in the garden outside the city talking to another man. They were quite similarly dressed (same cultural tailor) and the other man looked a bit younger than he. Who were they? I still wondered.

For fear of losing him again, I hurriedly stuffed my binoculars into the bag, wedged it into a crevice of rock and cautiously crept down through the rocks and stepped out onto the road. I was trembling all over, feeling like some character out of a Star Trek movie, who'd just been beamed to the surface of a strange planet.

I felt torn from all things familiar when I left my last remnants of the 20th Century stuffed in that bag back behind a rock. I felt naked without all the technology I'd grown so accustomed to. I never ever imagined I could feel so unconnected before.

As I headed toward the garden, the curious glances of the other passers by made me self-conscious. I was considerably lighter skinned than most everyone else, so I wrapped my headpiece around my face and stared at the ground as I walked. Once they had passed, I looked up to see where the man was. He was gone! I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself not to panic; but it wasn't working. I stalled, walking slower and slower, scanning the horizon and everyone in front of me for this mysterious stranger. I couldn't find him.

I finally came to a stand still and quickly turned around, thinking the best place for me to go was back to my rock. No one seemed to notice that I had u-turned and was now walking the other way; so for that I was relieved, although I fought hard with the urge to run and take a diving leap back into my hiding place. If anything would make a scene - the 'sliding into first base move' would certainly be it! It was a real challenge to keep control over my pace, for I knew that if I kept my steps moderate and even, I wouldn't arouse suspicion.

Just as I was approaching my familiar rocky friends, I felt a tug on my sleeve as I passed someone I wasn't paying attention to. I quickly turn my head and watched a minute as the stranger kept walking. 'Come'. He motioned with his arm as I suddenly noticed he again had the satchel. I recognized his clothing and wondered how could I have missed that. It was him!

I followed him into the city, still wondering who he was? Was it someone from the early church, someone I'd recognize? The thoughts flipped through my mind like the pages of a Bible, as I mentally tried to log all who passed between the books from Matthew to Revelation. I had no idea what year this actually was, so trying to judge by the looks of this man (who must've been nigh on 40) wasn't turning into a very productive endeavor.

Could this actually be HIM? A preposterous suggestion suddenly popped into my head; causing my feet to stall.

Naw! I dismissively chuckled as I continued walking. The notion now stirring of how, if this really was Jesus, he didn't look anything like... Jesus. Not that we know what Jesus looked like. I reminded myself. Except we all assume from some passage in Isaiah that he was rather... aesthetically unappealing?

Well, if that's the case? I finally decided, than this probably wasn't Jesus, since though he lacked... the primal substance of animal magnetism, he wasn't revolting either. No, this fellow was very unassumingly ... monochromatic; like the neutral flavor of...distilled water.

I slowed a little as we drew near the gate, watching out of the corner of my eye as people emerged from the city. I peered over at the faces, some wrinkled and worn, while others still bearing a youthful resemblance despite the scorching sun and the wicked winds that carried what I could only describe as 'living sandpaper' through the city streets.

Oh yes, the environmental hazards of this place to one's face and body were quite evident. Even after only being here a whole 24 hours, it felt like it might as well have been 1000 years. I pondered as these faces didn't really look any different than the ones I passed during the war; some... 2000 years later? I began to wonder as I quickened my pace again; how old are these people - really?

I almost walked into my stranger friend, before I realized he had paused a minute to wait for me. He'd stopped almost in mid stride with his face turned back, looking over his shoulder. He seemed a little wrinkled and worn himself. I noticed as I finally took the few seconds offered to study this face before he turned around again and continued walking. Little did I realize at the time, this same expression would remain burned in my memory all the rest of the days of my earthly life. Who is he? I began again to wonder as I noticed we were passing onto a different road surface.

This road was stone, soon to be changing to wood as we were quickly approaching a bridge. As we continued to walk; the first clue to what year it actually was, surfaced into my line of sight. It didn't dawn on me until much later though, as we passed this landmark in history.

Why don't they cut that thing down? I chuckled to myself as I reached up and grabbed a branch off of this obviously very dead tree. The branch broke off in my hand and I stood a minute looking at it, for I don't think I'd ever seen a tree so dry and brittle. I snapped the branch and looked at the wood; while I found myself hurrying as to not lose this man. No termites, no rot, nothing - it's just a very... dead. I caught myself mumbling as I looked up and noticed the stranger was again standing and waiting for me. "Sorry." I squeaked out an apology, as I tossed the branch aside and hurried over.

We paused to pay a toll at the bridge before we crossed over and began our ascent up the sloping hill to the gate. The traffic was getting much more dense, as we inched our way up to the city. There were merchants and people with herds of animals and carts and so on and such like; all waiting in line to pass the guards who stood poised by a giant wooden door which entered the western gate of the city. The Peace Bridge to Canada! I chuckled to myself as we too stood in a line of 'pedestrian only' traffic. Hum, how some things never change. I began to ponder as I looked down the long line of first century tractor trailer trucks waiting to cross the border.

I observed carefully as the people before us passed through the guard posts, up to a second set of gates on their way into the city. I watched what they did and the soldiers' responses to them. It didn't seem that tricky nor sophisticated, as people answered questions, gathered up their traveling companions and followed the soldiers' pointing fingers. It wasn't long until we were next, as my stranger friend grabbed my arm, pulled me toward him, said a few words to the guards and we were on our way. That was easy. I shrugged as I glanced back at them a minute and kept climbing the stairs.

As we passed through a third gate onto another walk way, I tried my best to be discreet about looking around. I was now taken by curiosity instead of tortured by fear. I felt kind of like a tourist, or maybe more like a foreign ambassador (one from the 20th Century possibly) instead of a soldier caught behind enemy lines.

Even in all of this hospitality though, I was still wondering how I was going to get home. I found myself fervently praying that it be not God's will I spend the rest of my life in the first century. I had too many problems of my own. I couldn't deal with the challenges of living in a foreign society, especially one that was 2000 years behind the times. This thought so overwhelmed me that I found myself fighting back the tears.

We'd come to series of wider human highways, as we passed several herders with carts and venders on the side of this... (sort of)... road? It was more like the throughway at a state fair than a 'road' per say. There were people outside cooking what looked like a spicy soup and bread. It smelled good. I sucked in the wafting aromas, as I glanced back in the direction I was going, just to make sure I didn't lose my guide.

I hurried along behind him and we kept walking, when I was suddenly caught aghast by one man snapping a whip at another, who was barely clad in a loin cloth. I stood and stared, when I felt my friend take my arm and gently pull me along, until we passed this incident that was brewing. This other man was obviously a slave; and I, coming from a time where slavery had been outlawed for almost 150 years, was jolted by the sight.

What a cruel place. I thought, as I walked along; the stranger still holding my hand while I was rather caught up in staring at everyone and everything I passed. He'd pulled my arm up under his and tucked my hand around his elbow, while holding it in place with his other, so as I wouldn't wander off again.

We'd been walking this 'fair ground' when we came upon the outer marketplace of the temple. As we passed the edifice of this complex, the golden doors to the outer most gate were open and I could see into the court yards, clear up the steps to part of one of the alters.

Beyond that, towered the temple building itself with its impressive blue, red and golden threaded curtain; decorated with... creatures. Exodus instructed the people to dress this veil with cherubim.

Not the cutesie chubby cheeked winged children we find in Victorian cemeteries. No... that wasn't ... exactly what was up there. Actually, wasn't even close. These cherubim more resembled the four winged, crowned men with lion's bodies that would be seen guarding Babylonian palaces.

I remembered reading in a museum blurb, that the Greeks had their own version of this called a Griffen and the Egyptian's had the Sphinx. So if the ark of the covenant (also having cherubim on its lid), is actually in there? Which I'd read centuries later that it wasn't. I wonder what it looks...or looked, like?

With mind distracted by theological questions asked centuries later; I began a second round of pondering if the 'ark of the covenant' was the one actually holding my hand?

Nah! I shook the thoughts away again. That would be too... ironic. Yet, would it not make sense, if the next time the temple was rebuilt and 'I AM' was to 'tabernacle among them'; would the 'presence of the Lord' be conspicuously absent in the absence of the ark Moses made? Intriguing question, since the presence of God was stated in Exodus to be connected to the mercy seat and not the structure that housed it. Hum? This made me want to sneak off and go see 'what's behind curtain number one'?

My mind turned back to our current path, as we snaked through the crowds transversing what I'd later come to learn was Solomon's Porch.

Other's we passed stared at me, for I must've struck them as mighty foreign. I was a pale, tall, (or at least to this sample of humanity) woman who probably weighed more than many of the men; as I was about the same size as the fellow in front of me. I tried to mind my clumsy feet and not gawk so much, when I noticed we were being trailed by two men in long robes and striped shawls; who'd seemed to me, to have been stalking us the past two blocks; as we exited the complex and passed into the streets of the lower city.

They looked rather ridiculous hovering around us with little leather boxes strapped to their foreheads; like genetically mutated hornets who's stingers were growing out of the wrong end! One ranted on, waving his arms and yelling at this man for... I guess, holding my hand? Ehhh, not sure how ya's managed to miss others engaged in this apparently objectionable behavior; but anyways? This made about as much sense as a pet cockroach. The 'Bull-sha-viks' went on as far as... until one got in my face!

He mumbled some gibberish and grabbed my head scarf; in which I just automatically hauled off and decked him! I hit him so hard, he staggered away stunned, stepping on his own robe and tripping himself. He stumbled backwards until his feet came right out from under him and he landed flat on his back.

Damn commies! I tried real hard not to laugh, as his friend ran to his aid wearing a look a fearful panic. My newly found companion only shook his head, as he took my arm up again and kept walking.

Several minutes passed in silence, while I wondered if we both would be in big trouble for what I'd just done; when we heard a woman's voice. "Rab-bo' -ni! Rab-bo' -ni!" She yelled. "Koo' -ree-os!" "Ooh-wo! Ooh-woo!" She was waving her arms frantically when I finally noticed her, before she scurried around a group of meandering pedestrians. I know those words? I puzzled as she came jogging up to us.

"Koo' -ree-os." I mumbled to myself. "Kury -a", Kyrie. Kyrie Eleison... down this road that I must travel..." The woman stopped and they both looked at me.

"Kyrie Eleison?" I repeated, wondering if that made any sense to them.

"Kyrie, Kristos, Christ. Eli, Eli, lama sabach' thani." I said as the woman stared in puzzled awe, while the stranger's gaze only slowly sunk to the ground. Apparently they both understood what I said, but the meaning seemed to totally fly right over her head?

"...lama sabach' thani..." I mumbled again as my eyes drifted over toward the hand now rather tightly clenched around mine. Without moving a muscle, my eyes followed up his sleeve to his face. He looked... terrified?

"Ihh..ih..t.. It is ... You." I gasped as I slowly picked up the hand that was cleaved to mine. I quickly turned the other way in my own sense of terrified panic. I wanted to run, but I couldn't move. My thoughts whirled around in a cyclone of confused fragments.

My life passed before my eyes in sound bites from a compilation of unrelated news casts, clipped up and left scattered across the studio floor. Old news; I tried to wiggle my fingers loose, but He wouldn't let go. I tried not to panic as the thought rolled through my conscience: Uh, Ya don't really wanna be holding that hand, especially since You must know where it's been.

I wasn't sure if I was nauseous, angry or just plain scared; but I was beginning to notice my fidgeting had caught the attention of this other woman. I was trying my hardest to ignore both of them, as I could tell the conversation had probably turned to me; for I could sense them periodically glancing in my direction. I began to creep further and further away, trying to distance myself from the fact that they must be able to see the tears trickling down my face. I wiped my eyes several times as I inched my way behind...Jesus.

The name stuck in my head like a spike stabbed into my ear and all I could think about were nails and crucifixion. There's no-one who really should want to die for my sorry existence. I could hear the voice in my head, as I wondered how serious He was about me and this whole redemption thing? After all, could I ever be that lucky? I feared as Bible verses started reeling through my head like an old fashioned movie projector gone haywire.

'And you shall call his name Jesus for he shall save his people from their sin.'

'according as he has chosen us in him from before