Luke 19:29–44
There’s something deeply jarring about this passage. Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey—an echo of Zechariah’s prophecy, a signal of peace. The crowd erupts with joy, laying their cloaks on the road, shouting blessings, praising God for the miracles they’ve seen. It feels like a celebration. It feels like a beginning.
And yet—Jesus weeps.
The people expected a king, but not this kind of king. They expected power, but not this kind of power. They thought they knew what God was doing—and what God should do—but they couldn’t recognize what was right in front of them.
It’s unsettling, isn’t it?
It makes me wonder:
What expectations do I carry into my faith that might blind me to how God is actually showing up?
We expect God to fix things the way we think they should be fixed. We expect clarity, comfort, maybe even control. But sometimes God shows up in disruption, in questions, in vulnerability. Sometimes, God walks a road we’d rather avoid, and invites us to follow.
The people didn’t recognize “the things that make for peace.” And sometimes, neither do we—especially when peace doesn’t look like triumph, but like surrender.
I am also struggling with those things that I know I need to let go of: Control. Expectations. Fear. Our own ideas of success or what God “should” do. Welcoming Jesus means making room for a surprising, upside-down kind of kingdom.
This week, I’m sitting with these questions. I’m asking God to help me notice where my expectations might be getting in the way of recognizing holy presence. Because if we only look for God in the places we expect—might we miss the very heart of what God is doing?
