I roam the halls, seeking the One whom I love. The One who redeems and restores, the One who rescues and saves. I know He is falsely accused, unjustly judged, wrongly deemed guilty. But I don’t care. They might condemn me too—I don’t care. All I want is to see Him. I tear away from my parents, who hold me back lest I break my heart. But without Him, it is already broken. I rummage through disguises, trying to find a ruse that will gain me access. Messenger? Servant? I sweep up my ragged hair, already cut short, and shove it under a cap. Perhaps a boy would have better luck. He’s doomed. A voice unheard whispers. You know He’s doomed. But his defeat is victory, I reply. Yes, he will die. Yes, it’s awful, bloody, brutal. But it’s not the end. I slip into the chamber, heart pounding. His back is towards me as he faces the unlucky horseshoe of accusers. Voices grate my ears, stabbing skin like thorns. “If you are He…” “If you are the One.” “If you…if you…” If! My heart screams. If? If the sun lights the sky. If we breathe the air. If? I close my eyes. How can they miss his identity? It’s obvious as a spring in the desert, clear as the day.  I lose all restraint. “I know You!” I scream. “I know who You are!” He turns and looks at me. Joy shines in His eyes, a joy richer and deeper than anything I’d known before. Then a slap lands on His cheek. “Who do you think you are, man?” I try to speak, but my throat is swollen with tears.  But I found Him. I saw His face. Strange joy fills my heart. Someone might say there is no reason for my joy, but they have not seen what I saw. His face.