Walking Where Jesus Walked: My First Holy Week in the Holy Land

As I stepped off the plane in Jerusalem, something in my spirit shifted. I had read the stories all my life. I had preached them, taught them, clung to them. But now, for the first time, I was standing on the very soil where my Savior walked. And it wasn’t just history coming alive — it was faith becoming real in a whole new way.

This Holy Week, I didn’t just read about Jesus’ final days — I walked them.

🌿 Palm Sunday at the Mount of Olives

Standing at the Mount of Olives, looking down into the city where Jesus made His triumphant entry, I imagined the sound of the crowds shouting, “Hosanna!” The palms waving, the cloaks laid down, the atmosphere thick with hope. And yet, knowing what was coming — betrayal, suffering, the cross — I felt the weight of His love more deeply than ever.

I whispered, “Jesus, You knew... and You still came.”

🕊️ Gethsemane: Where the Oil Presses

I wept in the Garden of Gethsemane. Not just because it was beautiful — but because it was sacred. Surrounded by ancient olive trees, I sat quietly where Jesus prayed alone. The place where He said, “Not My will, but Yours be done.” I could feel the crushing pressure, the agony of surrender — and I saw my own story in His.

This wasn’t just His garden. It was mine too.

✝️ Via Dolorosa: The Way of Suffering

Walking the Via Dolorosa — the path Jesus took to Calvary — my feet felt heavy. With every step, I thought of the weight He carried: the cross, the pain, the rejection, the sin of the world — my sin. At each station, I paused. I prayed. I cried. I thanked Him.

It wasn’t a tour. It was worship.

🕳️ The Empty Tomb: He Is Not Here

But nothing prepared me for the moment I stood before the tomb. The place where they laid Him. The silence was holy. The stone was rolled away — and so was my fear. My doubts. My weariness. I could almost hear the angel whisper, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; He has risen!”

In that moment, I didn’t just celebrate the resurrection — I felt resurrected.

Final Reflections

This week in the Holy Land changed me. It deepened my faith, expanded my perspective, and stirred something sacred inside me. I am not the same woman who boarded that plane. I am more tender, more grounded, more aware of just how real Jesus is — not just in history, but in my life right now.

Holy Week is no longer just something I observe. It’s something I’ve lived.

And now, as a woman of God, I carry the power of the cross and the victory of the resurrection in a way I never have before.

He walked it for me.
Now I walk boldly because of Him.