Sweet joy. It is Palm Sunday. The day most Jews recognized Christ as their Messiah, celebrated Him, honored Him as he entered the holy city.
The celebration did not last and soon he was betrayed, convicted, crucified. But now, as we sit on the edge of Holy Week, ready to remember and relive each day of his last week, I am full of celebratory joy.
Joy that nothing of real worth is lost forever. Joy that in Him I can have peace, untouchable peace. And that because He is alive and real, His spirit, His voice, His words, and His light can reach into my life every day. Every time I ask.
Each year I write about our traditions for Holy Week. You can read about them here, with links to earlier posts included.
I am feeling a bit withered and dry this season, in need of holiness. In need of being filled. The kids will be out of school for spring break, so the week is wide open to us. And I am happy with anticipation.
So much love,