The Hopeful Context

Voices shouting out in praise,
Branches and cloaks laid on the way
To herald the approach of their true king.
Through all those upheld hands,
They couldn’t see His plan
To be the ultimate pure offering.

How often have our noble dreams
Been going swimmingly, it seems,
When suddenly they derail with a great crash.
All progress has been lost,
At far too great a cost,
And we are left with handfuls of cold ash.

We could wallow in our pain and rage
And lock ourselves inside a cage
Of bitterness, resentment and despair;
Or remember that he sees
The fruits in eternity
Of our current struggles, toils and prayers.

So in that hopeful context, try to see and understand
That your pain is part of an almighty plan;
So as you play your role,
It grows and shapes your soul,
To be ready to embrace the great I AM.

When Branches Paved a Holy Road

When branches paved a holy road,
The stones cried out in praise,
Proclaiming the arrival
Of the great Ancient of Days.

His power held back, his glory veiled,
And yet a glimpse bled through
Of He who shines through all that’s good
And beautiful and true.

The echoes of creation
Renewed in noble song;
Acclaiming the approaching king
They’d waited for so long.

Did they known his true nature,
His purpose, or his plan,
Or what another crowd would chant,
To the great shame of Man?

Welcome

May You be as welcome
In my heart as on that day
When crowds laid cloaks and branches
To glorify your way,

Proclaiming you as rightful king,
They sang and praised your name,
That you healed the blind, the sick,
The outcast and the lame.

Your rule in me is what I need
To combat my foul pride and greed,
To count the cost and sow good seed
With wisdom and with grace.

So as your influence grows,
Your wondrous mercy flows,
With joy my whole soul knows
That I have put You in your place.

When the People Saw Their King

When the People Saw Their King

When the people saw their King
And shouted praises in the streets,
Laying cloaks as offerings
Before the donkey’s humble feet;

The nation’s healing was at hand,
Vain men dared not stem the flow
Of joy their pride could not withstand,
For fear the people might outgrow

Their iron grip upon the minds
Of the faithful, good and true,
And leave their twisted souls behind,
As God poured out blessings new,

And heaven would come down to earth;
All their hopes would be fulfilled.
All would see their own true worth,
Broken lives would be rebuilt.

As He revelled in the cheers
That greeted Him along the way,
Perhaps He shed an inner tear
At what awaited in five days.