A few days before he was crucified on the cross, Jesus entered Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover riding on a donkey. Have you ever thought of what it was like to be the donkey? Probably not—I never have.
But G.K. Chesterton, in his poem The Donkey, writes:
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
Chesterton’s poem reminds us that no matter how insignificant we are, how unnoticed or disregarded or derided by the world we may be, our finest hour is always in humble service to the Lord.
Have a wonderful day.
