A Faith Introspection-Lent
©ESR 2026

We laid the branches down
because we thought it was triumph.

Palm fronds lifted,
green against the dust of the road…
a welcome,
a waving,
a moment that felt like arrival.

But palm alone is only a leaf.
Only shade.
Only spectacle.

It takes two more letters
to turn it into song.

Salvation.
Sacrifice.

Two S’s slipped quietly
into the ribs of the word
until Palm becomes Psalms…
until praise learns
what it costs.

We wanted procession.
We got a cross.

We wanted a throne.
We got splinters.

And somewhere between
Hosanna and silence,
the alphabet shifted.

Branches became verses.
Shouting became weeping.

Victory bent its head.
Palm was never enough.

It had to break open
into Psalms—
into cries,
into laments,
into hymns scratched from the underside
of grief.

And still we sing them.
Still we carry branches
that know they will dry.

Still we whisper letters
that cost blood to pronounce.

Sacrifice.
Salvation.

Two S’s.

One word made holy

by what it endured.