I had picked up a Bible that was my father's.
As I flipped through the pages, something fell into my lap. It was a palm cross. A very old palm cross. It had a straight pin through the middle. I remember the time when everyone had a palm cross pinned to their clothing as they entered the church on Palm Sunday.
As I held it in my hand, it was a reminder of my father's faith...and his faithfulness to his church. I'm sure my mother removed the cross from his coat when they got home that day. She stuck it in his Bible and there it was for me, all these years later.
And so I see the symbol of salvation in an old, brittle, faded palm frond twisted into a cross. The promise of the life of Christ and the joy of my salvation because he loved me to death.
Father, we glorify your name this Palm Sunday. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!