Palm Sunday

I love the church I grew up in. It was (and I’m sure still is) a wonderful place to establish and grow my faith. Being church of Christ though, we often didn’t discuss certain days, where other churches make special observances and have special festivities.
So it was this Sunday as I sat in my row and watched my 3 year old little girl coming in to church waving her palm branch that I decided that I wanted her to know what Palm Sunday is all about.
I wanted her to know the story of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem. Of his riding on the donkey colt as shouts of acclimation and adoration filled his ears. ( I wonder if that is a sound he clung to in his heart a few days later, as insults and hateful words were venomously spewed at him.) How the people laid down both palm branches and their own cloaks to carpet the road for Jesus’ ride. We read the story, and I have to say that it made my heart swell with joy as she walked around the house waving her palm branch and saying "Hosanna! Hosanna! Glory to God! Praise God!"
Later that night I was thinking about it and I realized I didn’t know what the word Hosanna meant. So I looked it up. (Any of you out there with more Greek/ Hebrew knowledge than me correct me if the definition I found was wrong.) Hosanna means "God save" and it is my understanding that this is a plea to God. That He would reach down from Heaven and send a savior to his people. And isn’t it wonderful that he did!
Praise be to God that he not only sent a savior, but that he sent his only son. His son Jesus, who was more than just his son, but is also a part of him. A part of him as much as my right arm is a part of me.


Side Note:
Here are Elizabeth's funnies for the day:
To the tune of Skip to my Lou "Glue, glue, stick to my glue!"
and during her prayer, " I love you God, and mommy and daddy, and Caleb and me and all my food, except one food. I don't like mushrooms. Please help me not to eat mushrooms."