Day 88 Palm Sunday

 

3/29/2026 

"As the echo of the crunching of apple

was still sounding in the garden [of Eden], 

Jesus was leaving for Calvary."

Max Lucado

And the Angels Were Silent

 

For three weeks now I have been experiencing unusual mornings. I haven't been well, because of an exposure to something that poisoned my body, so this has made me even more sensitive at times as physical discomfort can be challenging and a bit of a distraction. My quiet time while somewhat different has still been special, as I must have time alone, in the secret place, or I really don't function well. Sitting at the feet of Jesus, being in the Presence of Abba, has become my life, so any change is hard. I'm jealous for this time alone with God.

This morning as I awakened, I reached for my phone, so I could turn on a song. I had been running The Chosen App, so one of the episodes was playing. It was the scene where Mary of Bethany anoints Jesus' feet with oil of spikenard, an exotic and expensive perfume, and she wipes his feet with her hair. She is preparing Jesus for His burial, without realizing it of course, but this is how He explained it to the ones who were troubled by her worship. It was hard to pull my eyes away, knowing the story so well, but I did close the app, and I turned on my worship music. I Enter the Holy of Holies by Paul Wilbur began to play, and immediately I was taken back to the scene of Mary worshiping Jesus. "I enter the holy of holies, I enter through the blood of the Lamb; I enter to worship You only, I enter to honor I Am. Lord, I worship You. I worship You. Lord, I worship You, I worship You. For Your Name is holy, holy, Lord."

I began to remember the very first solo I sang in church. It was Palm Sunday, and I was singing the special for the morning service. I recall how anxious I felt, so I prayed silently for God to just take me away, allow me to get so caught up in the song, that the presence of the people would not distract me. So, I decided to close my eyes as I sang. The song was Via Dolorosa, and I was singing it in English and Spanish. If you're familiar with the song, it is quite haunting, as it mournfully cries of Jesus carrying the cross to Golgotha where He will be crucified. He's being pushed by soldiers who are trying to clear the streets of people crowding the sides of the street, watching, perhaps shouting. Jesus had been beaten severely, bleeding, weakened by the torture, hardly able to stand much less carry the cross. As I write this words, I can see Him, and the memory becomes more finally chiseled into my mind and cuts into my heart. I am a visual learner, with a creative mind, so I see things that I cannot unsee. I don't want to forget what He did for me, not that I could.

So my quiet time this morning was spent in tears, writing feverishly in my journal, attempting to capture my feelings on paper. So here I sit, ready to tell the story, and yet the words cannot come. I remain intensely emotional, even as I think about this entire day. And I don't know how to share what I am feeling with others, for fear I will be misunderstood, but I imagine I already am that...misunderstood or considered a nutcase because of my passion for Jesus.

I wonder sometimes if anyone really understands how much God loves them, and how far He went to prove the point. As I sat there this morning, another song came on, a worship medley, by Jesus Image. Sometimes when I need to sit quietly and think deeply about some things on my heart, I listen to their worship songs, as they are not timed. Before they begin to worship, they have prayed, and the Presence of God is so thick, even in the music. Holy Spirit leads the worship, so there is no hurry to move on to the next thing. There's no pretense of being anyone other than someone hungry for God. I understand that insatiable hunger for more and more of His Presence. It is tangible. And this was my morning.

I wasn't able to attend church services locally because I was still very ill and weak, as I would have loved to do, but I did attend online services at a couple of churches I attend weekly. It was a very full day, and I am grateful for the blessing. Tonight I watched a special event with The Chosen, as we await the showing of the sixth season, Jesus' final day filmed in a series of eight episodes. This series has been a wonderful adventure over the past five years as I've journeyed with those portraying the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. And as I have testified before, it is masterfully done, and it has added great meaning to my life, as well as touching the lives of thousands of people around the world. The impact has been tremendous, and so many lives have been changed.

And that was my day. As I prepare for bed, before I close my eyes, I'll think about the day, wondering what morsel of truth I can glean from the intensity of it. I'll turn on The Chosen and begin the fifth season, as we're still binging for Holy Week. The one thing that carries me forward is my express desire to finish well for Him. I don't want to fail Him by not doing the one thing I was born and put here to do for His glory. I want to Honor I Am. We each have a destiny unique to ourselves. I pray I am successful in His call.   

But, for now, I rest.