The Holy City of the Wichitas

The City now has representations that are used to tell the story of Jesus from his birth to the resurrection. 

Hello dear reader.

Louissa brought me to the Holy City of the Wichitas yesterday. It’s on a small mountain (2,385 ft.). It was a beautiful drive to get up there.

The Holy City itself was amazing! First we went into a wonderful chapel.

The paintings on the ceiling and the stained glass took my breath away. There were niches all around containing statuettes. If you look closely, you’ll see that the wooden pews have little doors to get in and out on each end. I loved it!

It’s called the Holy City because in 1926, when Reverend Anthony Mark Wallock went up the Wichita mountain it reminded him of Judea. He began bringing his Sunday school classes up there to teach them about Jesus. He built what looks like the ruins of an ancient city and began doing an Easter pageant there and opened it to the public. By 1930, over 6,000 people were coming to see it and it has increased every year since. In the beginning only a handful of people performed, now the cast includes hundreds.

The City now has representations that are used to tell the story of Jesus from his birth to the resurrection. It has everything from Mary’s garden to the tomb.

The Holy City is open to visitors (free of charge) all year, but the performances are only done on Easter Sunday. It’s easy to feel like you’re back in the time and place Jesus walked. I enjoyed it thoroughly and hope you do also.

Until next time…


Hello dear reader and happy Easter to you.

I don’t talk much in here about my spiritual beliefs. There are two reasons for that. The first is that I believe with all my heart that everyone’s beliefs are precious and have value. I don’t have the right to tell anyone what their spiritual beliefs should be. Secondly, my spirituality is always changing, growing, and sometimes waning. I’m still figuring some of it out.

That being said, I’ve always felt that Easter is a time of renewal, a new beginning. It’s a time to let go of the past, a time of forgiveness both for me and by me.

Whether you believe the traditional celebration of Easter, Jesus rising from the dead, or not, it’s still a time for celebration. It marks the end of the long, dark winter and the beginning of spring. It’s the time of new growth. Trees begin to bud, grass turns green, and flowers shyly poke their heads toward the sun.

We bought our house in the spring and soon noticed a tulip growing at the edge of the yard. It was off by itself, a single, beautiful, red flower. The next spring it bloomed with two flowers, which it’s done ever since. That tulip has always made me think of Easter. It spends a long time in the cold, dark ground, but manages to emerge full of beauty and color no matter how harsh the winter has been. It’s a rebirth, like Easter is.

There are times when I’m down for weeks, even months at a time. Depression sets in and tells me it will never end. Easter reminds me that no matter how long, dark, and hard that time is, eventually it will end.

I felt better yesterday than I have in a very long time. I had an excellent day. The pain was low and I had energy. I felt like I was me, rather than the pain which takes me over. I danced and celebrated (the dogs thought I had lost my mind). Easter came a day early for me.

The point? No matter how long, dark, and brutal the winter, Easter will come. Celebrate it when it does.

Until next time…