It happened again, dear Lord, as it so often does. You winked at me.
A few days ago, I was reading along in Matthew, a chapter a day, as part of my Lenten journey. I’d finished reading Matthew 20, with Jesus’s parables about the workers all getting the same pay, no matter how long they worked. And then the first shall be last quote. And Jesus predicting His death as the disciples head with Him to Jerusalem. And James and John’s mom asking for them to sit by Jesus in the kingdom and the ensuing jealousy. And again, Jesus says, the first will be last and the last first.
I was tempted to read Matthew 21—the Triumphal Entry. But I thought, “No, I’ve got all this next week to slowly absorb my Lord’s last days on earth. Tomorrow I’ll read Matthew 21.”
A little later, as I opened my computer, I saw that I had an email from the church secretary about the passage I would be reading in church on Sunday. And when I opened up the Word document with the Scripture printed on it, I read:
Matthew 21: 1-11.
Really, Lord? Really? The emotions swirl, joy, awe, humbling, a little holy fear, gratitude. Your Wink. But this one feels like You’re shouting at me: “Lizzie, I know there is a lot of stuff going on in your life right now that is disturbing. But remember, I’m right here with you. You can never get away from Me. I promise you that.”
I need that reassurance, even though I have that reassurance. You. Are. Here.
You hold all the messy stuff in my little life, in the Covid world, in books and workers and beyond.
Matthew 21 is Your Triumphal Entry.
On that day as I sat with all that was swirling around in me, I thought, “Here is another of Your triumphal entries, Lord. In my life.”
As I read about You on the back of that young donkey, I thought about the novel I am penning which has horses in it, which takes me back to my youth when I was an equestrian.
You know these things. You are the One who shows up, and I wave enthusiastically the palm branch and then fall face down before You, awed and humbled.
I often think about the seasons in our lives as believers. So many changing seasons. But sometimes, sometimes, as we change seasons, there is another triumphal entry. You barge into our day in a way we can’t miss despite our worries and fears and temptations and failings.
You show up in an astoundingly personal way, simply because You can. And You know that this is what I need. A very personal triumphal entry, just for me.
You know, Lord, that I in no way am trying to take away from the Real Triumphal Entry. I am simply awestruck at Your timing. In my life, You knock down all the ‘it’s just a coincidence’ arguments again and again, by showing up and showing me that You know. You know exactly where I am in my life, exactly what I reading (or not reading) in the Word, exactly what my next day and week will be.
I don’t know.
But You come in, again and again, humbly, figuratively riding on that donkey, that look of love and compassion in Your eyes, and say, “I know where you are, dearest daughter, my Lizzie. Fix your eyes on Me. Keep them fixed on Me. You won’t always ‘see’ Me as clearly as today, when I invade your life in a such a personal way. But I’m here. Always. You have known it, but today I thought I’d shout my whisper and wink a little ‘louder’. Just because I love You. And I can.”
Where have you seen Jesus’s triumphal entry in your life lately? It might be a pink blossom on a cherry tree or the sweet kiss of a child or a little coincidence that isn’t a coincidence. Take time and praise Him for it right now.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her blog.