Palm Sunday

I spent last night in a cheap hotel room that was infested by bedbugs because I was having some pretty major car issues.  I eventually realized, I had to roll the dice and drive back to my apartment, an almost two hour distance, because I have class tomorrow and there's no garages open on Sunday.  My car, any time I came upon a steep hill, would begin to sputter and lose power as I hit the gas and prayed as I gripped the steering wheel.  

The Apostle Paul admonishes us to "pray without ceasing" and boy did I.  All the way back to my tiny university town.  I realized I'd arrived in time to go to morning Mass for Palm Sunday.  Arriving early, I fell to my knees, pulled out my rosary, and prayed a Divine Mercy Chaplet in Thanksgiving for the Lord keeping me safe on my journey.

As Mass began, I realized what day it really was.  The triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem.  He had made His own journey, one which lasted several years and began at the Wedding at Cana.  He was entering into the journey's final leg, the one which even He dreaded, the march towards His death.  These people would turn upon Him within days, something expounded upon in the second Gospel reading as the crowds demanded, "Crucify Him!" 

But even as He approached the end, He held strong to the will of His Father in Heaven, as we are called to do the same.  My journey, hopefully, isn't to end in an untimely death at the hands of my treasonous disciple (of which I have none) any time soon, but it is something to remember.  No matter what life throws, continue on that path.