Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday is my most favorite part of Lent. There is something about the waving of the palms that makes me very excited. Jesus is going to see me ! Jesus is going to see me! Some of the few that I know call it a pagan practice. For them it is nothing but an empty, meaningless
s tradition. But if only they too can experience even just for once, waving their palms, they would know how it is to be in the street of Galilee where Jesus was meeting the people and blessing them. For me, it is that kind of privilege I get enjoy to once every year. It is relieving all these moments when God was actually here, becoming human, knowing our pains too well. Waving the palms for me is so personal, an intimate experience of Jesus. This and a lot more, when we stop being too scholarly and just decide to experience him, feel him, breathe him, long for him. This and a lot more of the wonders and magic of Jesus of Nazareth.

I bring the palms home, and pin them on the walls, on the windows, on the door. So pagan, as others would again say. But for me, it is a remembrance of a moment spent with someone special. Someone special like my Saviour. I want to feel his presence in every corner of my home, I want to always be reminded of his love and protection, of how he was here, mortal like me and yet blessing me like the God that he is. These palms, until they wither will decorate my home like the picture frames of my loved ones on the wall.