03/29/2026
The Palm Sunday story always amazed me... That a basically untouched donkey c**t, calmly carried Jesus through Jerusalem with people throwing cloaks in front of him and waving palm branches around him. He didn't buck. He didn't bolt. He didn't have to be dragged. For those of your who have dealt with young jacks, you KNOW how miraculous that was. This young donkey fulfilled his mission and the prophecy from Zechariah 9:9
"Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a c**t, the foal of a donkey."
It was just another day, and I was restless, as usual. I pawed the ground and wondered how long I would be tied to that post. There was so much going on in Jerusalem!
I watched people bustling by all morning, making their way into the city. I heard them talk of the Passover and I could see on their faces that it must be something important and exciting. If only I could go into the city with them and see what it was all about!
My wishing was interrupted by two men who suddenly appeared before me, reaching for my rope. I looked anxiously at my owner and saw his raised eyebrow. Gruffly he said to them, “What are you doing with the c**t?”
I turned to look at the two strangers. I saw kindness in their faces but also a great determination; I knew they were on a mission, and I inwardly begged for my master to let me go with them.
I knew the chances were less than slim, but to my amazement, he looked at them just a second more and then, his face changed. It melted into a knowing peace and he untied me and handed them my lead. They didn’t even need to hold it, for I was more than willing to go with them on their mission, whatever it was.
We made our way through the crowds… my ears were up and my eyes darted back and forth, but not in fear— it was expectation in my donkey heart that moved my feet almost at a trot.
We finally came to a spot out of the bustle, and there in the clearing, I saw HIM.
My eyes had never looked upon this Man, yet I recognized Him in an instant.
Here I was: small, scruffy, not yet come into my full strength for carrying burdens… yet the two men had just presented me before… my Creator!
You see, we animals have sight that is not clouded by “logic” and doubt as human sight is. We know our Maker and we look to Him to supply our needs in quiet trust.
And today, somehow, here I was before my very King!!
How could it be that I, weak and insignificant as I was, would be his mount today? I trembled, not with fear but with the overwhelming knowledge of what was happening.
Then, He reached out and stroked my head. My trembling stopped, my heart steadied, and with my head bowed, I stood as still as a statue as He mounted. Though He was a grown man, His burden was light… and I wished I could carry Him forever.
We made our way through the streets and people ran to line our path. They threw down their cloaks before us so that I might walk on them instead of the common dirt that wasn’t worthy of Him who sat on my back.
They grabbed branches from the palms nearby and waved them before Him, and they shouted. Oh, how they shouted! “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
If it weren’t for my Maker’s steadying Presence I would have been afraid of the clamor, but instead my heart joined them in praising this One, this King of kings.
If I had been able to see His face, I would have noticed that, beyond the kind smiles and the love that beamed from His eyes for these people along the road- great and small, young and old, rich and poor- beyond that love, there was a terrible determination.
The crowds were driven by celebration; my Maker’s followers too were caught up in the joy of that journey.
But my King— oh, my King.
He did not urge me on in joy; rather His face was set like a flint, determined to reach His destination.
And it was my dreadful privilege to carry Him through the praises of the crowd, closer to that which awaited Him, in His Jerusalem.
