Lord Jesus,
You entered Jerusalem not on a war horse, but on a donkey
gentle, humble, yet full of majesty.
You were surrounded by praises, palm branches, and shouts of Hosanna!
And yet You knew that the same city singing Your glory
would soon cry, Crucify Him!
You came in peace, but You came with purpose.
I confess, Lord
I want to join the praises, to wave my branches high,
but too often I praise with my lips and resist with my heart.
Too often I welcome You on Sunday and wander from You by Monday.
So here I am
not with pretense, not with a perfect offering,
but with trembling hands and an open heart.
Come into the gates of my soul,
not just as a guest but as my King.
You went straight to the temple Your Father's house
and You overturned what didn’t belong.
Tables crashed, coins scattered, and silence fell.
You weren’t angry without cause
You were cleansing what had become corrupted.
Lord, do the same in me.
Turn over every table of pride,
scatter the coins of greed and self centered ambition,
drive out the distractions that keep me from prayer.
Make my heart a house of worship again
pure, humble, holy ground.
You healed the blind and the lame inside that very temple.
You restored what others ignored.
And children sang Your praise while the religious leaders grew bitter.
Oh Jesus, keep me from the pride that silences praise.
Give me the voice of a child simple, sincere, and unashamed.
Let me never outgrow wonder,
never be too "grown-up" to dance in Your presence,
never be too religious to rejoice in Your mercy.
You saw a fig tree with leaves but no fruit,
a tree that promised life but gave none.
And You cursed it not out of cruelty,
but as a warning to all who bear the appearance of faith but not its fruit.
Lord, search me.
Let me not be leafy but lifeless.
Let me not say the right things but live the wrong way.
Make my faith real
fruitful, fragrant, full of life that nourishes others.
Let love be my harvest.
Let kindness be my witness.
Let self denial be my worship.
You taught that with faith, we can speak to mountains,
and they will move.
But I tremble at the foot of mine
the mountain of anxiety,
the mountain of grief,
the mountain of impossible things I can’t climb or carry.
Still, You say Believe.
So I believe, Lord help my unbelief.
Give me faith that doesn’t rely on sight.
Give me prayers that are bold enough to trust
that You are listening,
that You are working,
that even my mustard seed matters in Your kingdom.
Then came the parables.
You told of sons one who said yes but didn’t go,
another who said no but later obeyed.
Too often, I’ve been both.
Too often I’ve said the right thing but failed to follow through,
or refused You at first but came crawling back in guilt.
Thank You for Your patience.
Thank You that You welcome even delayed obedience.
Shape my words and my walk,
so they are no longer at odds.
And You warned of tenants who killed the master’s son
who rejected the very One sent to save them.
Lord, may I never push You out of the vineyard of my life.
You are not a threat to my control
You are my life, my joy, my inheritance.
May I not resist You,
but rejoice in You.
Take what is Yours.
Bear fruit in me, and let me never forget:
The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.
So today, I cry Hosanna!
Not just with my lips,
but with my life.
Save me, Jesus not just once,
but again and again and again.
Save me from shallow faith,
from hollow religion,
from self sufficiency and stubborn pride.
Come as King into every corner of my soul.
Cleanse what dishonors You.
Heal what is broken.
Bear fruit through me.
Teach me to pray with boldness,
to praise with passion,
and to follow You with faith that moves mountains.
In Your holy, purifying, and victorious name, Jesus
Amen.