with waving palms

The Hosannas were shouted today, amidst the rustling palms... and the Alleluias peeked through the branches in anticipation. With their turn still a week away, they quickly tuck back into my pocket, where they have been hidden away during lent. How I would have loved to be at that parade... clapping and waving for the Lord of my life.
But being there... would mean that I wouldn't know how the story ends, not for certain. And I'm afraid that I would have drown in the sorrow. Today... I wish for a way to skip over the darkness that this week promises. But the pain must be endured, the story retold. I try to hold fast to what I know... to keep my heart from melting into those tears. Three days of sorrow... for a lifetime with my Savior? No, it is not too much to ask. For just as the tears always come... the Son always rises. And the Alleluias will have their turn... wings unfurled and rejoicing.

Hosanna in the highest!
That ancient song we sing.
For Christ is our Redeemer,
the Lord of heav'n, our King.
O may we ever praise Him with heart and life and voice,
And in His blissful presence Eternally rejoice!
-Hosanna Loud Hosanna, Harold Flammer Music