It is Palm Sunday.
A day when we commemorate Jesus Christ’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem and the beginning of Holy Week. The crowds waved palm branches and welcomed Him as King, not knowing what the week would bring.
It is going to be a big week for the skinny, long-haired Jewish kid.
As a Christian, it is a week to take a hard look at my faith. Not the version from years ago, but the one I’ve carried, or maybe drifted from, over the last fifty years. I need to figure out the role that faith will play going into my last twenty or thirty years.
Because without a grip on faith, everything else starts to give. Faith is what steadies us when life keeps throwing punches. I can’t overthink the faith part this week. I can’t figure it out in seven days, but live it with every morning get up.
This week starts in March and ends in April.
Thursday is Opening Day for the White Sox. I’ll be with a good group of friends. It’s also Holy Thursday, the night Jesus sat down with His friends for the Last Supper.
He gathered with His people and I’ll be gathering with mine. Same idea, but they go to a seder and we are going to a ballgame.
I gave up Chicago food for my Sixty Days of Cecilia, but I might have to call her on the heaven phone and ask permission for a hot dog and a Maxwell Street sausage.
We’ll see how that conversation goes.
It is the last Sunday of March. Get outside and watch the sunrise. Go find some gusto and astonishment.
