O God of Heaven rent wide,
Breaker of silence, Bringer of peace,
We come not with fanfare, but with fear and faith intermingled.
No spotless palms, just the weary hands of those who’ve held on.
No grand procession, just hearts undone.
“Oh, that You would rend the heavens and come down…” (Isaiah 64:1)
We cry, not for show, but from the pit of our need:
Hosanna! Save us.
Save us from the pride that parades as piety,
From systems that suffocate the weak,
From souls gone numb beneath religion’s weight.
“Lord, save us! Lord, grant us success!” (Psalm 118:25)
You came low.
God wrapped in dust, riding a borrowed donkey,
Every step toward suffering deliberate.
You did not avoid the cross—you aimed for it.
“Behold, your King is coming to you, righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey.” (Zechariah 9:9)
“He who counts the stars and calls them by their names is in a manger, a babe at the breast of a woman.”
And yet You are King.
The stones felt it. The skies shook for it.
Creation cried out because humanity was blind.
Even the donkey knew Deliverance had taken the reins.
“If they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” (Luke 19:40)
We are the crowd—
Half holy, half terrified.
We lift our hands while our hearts still tremble.
We shout Hosanna today, and tomorrow, we forget.
“I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24)
But still You came.
And still You come.
“I will come back and take you to be with me.” (John 14:3)
Not as Caesar. Not with armies.
But with scars and sovereign love.
A King not of conquest, but of covenant.
Not of thrones, but of thorns.
“Christ is alive. He’s not on the cross. He’s not in the tomb. He’s on the throne.”
So we lay down more than cloaks.
We lay down control, timelines, and the tired scaffolding of self-salvation.
We surrender our need to see before we trust.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart…” (Proverbs 3:5)
Shake us, Lord.
Shake the kingdoms we’ve built in Your name but without Your Spirit.
Burn away performance religion.
“Once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.” (Hebrews 12:26)
“God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.”
So satisfy us again.
Not with comfort, but with Christ.
Not with answers, but with awe.
Come into our streets, our systems, our struggles.
Come into addiction, depression, the courtroom, the cancer ward.
Come, not in observation, but in intervention.
“The Lord is a warrior; the Lord is His name.” (Exodus 15:3)
“You stand before God as if you were Christ, because Christ stood before God as if He were you.”
So, Jesus, ride in with mercy that bruises but heals.
With truth that does not flatter, but frees.
With holiness that does not distance, but draws near.
“By His wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5)
“You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32)
When the cross looms and hope trembles,
When Saturday silence mocks our faith,
Open our eyes like Elisha’s servant.
“Then the Lord opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire…” (2 Kings 6:17)
You are not defeated.
You are not gone.
You are not done.
“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8)
“The King didn’t come for applause. He came for war and He won with love.”
So we wait.
With palms, with scars, with praise and pain all mingled.
For the stone to roll.
For the sky to split.
For the trumpet to sound.
Hosanna in every corner of our need.
Hosanna in the now and the not yet.
Hosanna still. Hosanna always.
“And His name will be the hope of all the world.” (Matthew 12:21)
Come, Lord Jesus. Ride in.
Amen.