I went to temple today. I didn’t feel like it but I went. I can’t get Jesus off my mind. I never really met him but still I seem to miss him. Somehow, he changed my life. If  only  I knew if he was the promised Messiah or not.

Something unexplainable happen at the temple. The curtain that covered the Holy of Holy was torn from bottom to top. There were several explanations floating around but non-that made any sense.

When I left the temple, I walked out to the edge of town. There upon Skull Hill I saw the cross that he was crucified on. His blood was still wet on it. In addition, the sign that read King of the Jews was still there.

I set at the base of the cross and thought about this man, Jesus. His memory made me sad and happy at the same time. I know that makes no sense but that is the only way I can explain it.

I wanted to be where he died and touch his blood. I am not normally given to do such things. I was there for about an hour and then I walked to where they buried him.

There were guards every where. I set back at a distance. Those roman guards can be rather nasty when they want to be.

I remember someone saying that he said, he could destroy the temple and rebuilt it in three days. For some reason, those words kept ringing in my ears.

I see the cave that holds his body but still something deep in me says he is not dead.

Maybe I am loosing my mind. After all this has been one strange week.

I will sign off now. I am going over to my mother’s. She will most likely have some left overs from the week of feasting.

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