On Passion Sunday this year we traveled for the first time to Belgium to visit the grave of my husband’s birth-father who was killed in 1944 during the Battle of the Bulge. We viewed the battle grounds and climbed around blown up bunkers. As we followed our guide, it did not seem like WWII happened more than 80 years ago. History came alive as we experienced being where lines of enemy tanks barreled through the forests, their explosions snapping and splintering tree tops creating additional shrapnel-like projectiles, and scarring the land.

Our journey to Belgium has been a lot to process, but writing about it helps.