Morning ladies, this is always a bittersweet time of the year. I don’t know about you, but when I picture a king arriving… I picture something grand. Something that makes you catch your breath. White horses. Banners. The kind of entrance that says: I have come, and you should be very impressed.
But Jesus.
Jesus rode in on a borrowed donkey.
A young one, at that. The kind of animal that ordinary, dusty, working people used to carry their things from one town to the next. Not a war horse. Not a throne. A donkey. And I have been sitting with that image for days now… because I think we miss the magnitude of it. I think we read it and nod and move on, and we don’t let it actually land.
So let’s let it land today, ladies. Let’s really look at what happened on that road into Jerusalem.
The King Who Had Every Right to Arrive Differently
Let me remind you who this is riding that donkey.
This is the One through whom everything was made. The Word that was in the beginning. The Alpha, the Omega. The name above every name. The One whose voice stilled a storm and raised the dead and opened blind eyes with nothing but a touch.
He could have arrived any way He chose.
And He chose a donkey.
“Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” – Zechariah 9:9 NIV
Zechariah wrote that prophecy 500 years before it happened. Five hundred years. God planned this entrance. This was not improvised humility. This was intentional, deliberate, chosen lowliness from the King of all kings.
He didn’t accidentally end up on a donkey. He planned to be there.
That wrecks me every single time.
The Crowd Who Thought They Understood
The people who lined that road were wild with joy. They threw their cloaks down. They waved palm branches. They shouted Hosanna – which means save us, deliver us now. They were ready for a warrior king. A political revolution. Someone who would ride straight into the Roman stronghold and tear it down with power. They saw a king coming, and they saw freedom on the horizon.
They weren’t wrong about who He was. They were just wrong about how He would save them. He didn’t come to overthrow a government. He came to overthrow death itself.
The crowd wanted a conqueror on a horse. God sent a Saviour on a donkey. And within a week… most of that same crowd would be shouting something very different. I wonder sometimes which side of that crowd I would have been on. The ones who stayed… or the ones who turned. The ones who waited at the tomb on Sunday morning… or the ones who went home disillusioned when Friday didn’t look like victory.
Because here is the honest truth, girlfriend – sometimes God’s plan doesn’t look like what we expected. Sometimes the way He comes through is so quiet, so humble, so… donkey… that we almost miss it.
Where Are You in That Crowd?
I want to ask you something personal today. As we stand at the start of Holy Week… where are you?
Are you the one waving the branches, full of faith, expectant and alive with hope? Or are you the one who’s been waiting a long time for Jesus to show up in the way you imagined… and you’re starting to wonder if He’s coming at all? Or maybe you’re somewhere in between. Shouting Hosanna on the outside and quietly holding a disappointment you haven’t told anyone about yet.
I’ve been all three at different points in my life. And what I know now that I didn’t always know then… is that He sees every single one of us in that crowd. The exuberant ones. The doubting ones. The ones holding back tears in the back row.
He rode straight toward all of them.
He rode straight toward you.
“As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road. When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen.” — Luke 19:36-37 NIV
The Humility That Would Save the World
Here is what I want you to carry into this Holy Week, ladies…
The King who rode in on a donkey was not diminished by the donkey. He was not less powerful, less worthy, less magnificent. He chose the donkey. And that choice – that deliberate, humility – was the beginning of the most expensive act of love in all of history.
Within days, those same hands that the crowd cheered would be stretched out on a cross.
That same voice that the people praised would cry out, ‘It is finished.’
And that death – that seemingly broken, defeated, shameful death – would become the very thing that set every one of us free.
So when you see God moving in ways that don’t look impressive… when His provision arrives on a donkey instead of a white horse… when His answer comes quietly instead of loudly… don’t miss it.
Don’t miss Him.
Because the God who planned a donkey entrance is the same God who planned your rescue.
And He never arrives late, and He never arrives wrong. He just sometimes arrives differently than we expected.
A Prayer to Open Holy Week
Abba Father, thank You for a King humble enough to ride a donkey. Thank You that You have never been what the world expected… and You have always been exactly what we needed. As we walk into this Holy Week, open our eyes. Help us not to miss You in the quiet, ordinary, unexpected places You choose to show up. We come to this week with open hands and open hearts. Do what only You can do. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
