04/02/2026
Tonight the church remembers a simple, astonishing truth:
love kneels.
Love washes tired feet.
Love meets people exactly where they are.
In that spirit, we offer this blessing for all who serve, lead, carry, and show up with weary hearts in Holy Week.
May it be a small basin of grace for you.
Blessed are you,
arriving between the waving of branches
and the weight of what must still be carried,
between procession and resurrection,
between hosanna and heartbreak.
Blessed are you between tasks—
moving the folding chairs
and making sure there’s something gluten‑free,
vegan, nut‑free,
and somehow still joyful
on the holy table.
Blessed are you
who have made bulletins and sermons,
answered texts about buttermints and hospice calls,
carried soup, silence, sanctuary,
while your own soul whispered for rest.
Blessed are you
who have spent so long tending others
that you have forgotten
you are also beloved,
also held,
also in need of gentleness.
Pause. Breathe.
Let this poem receive you
without demand.
Breathe. Christ isn’t in the language of empire.
Christ isn’t riding in on an armored warhorse,
but on a long, floppy‑eared c**t
borrowed from a neighbor,
with absolutely no sense of pageantry.
Let Christ meet you in unadorned things:
in rest,
in laughter,
in quiet,
in the kindness of a shared meal,
in the softening of your shoulders.
With one soft exhale,
remember this:
renewal is not something you must manufacture today.
The renewal Christ offers
is not something you must earn.
You are already worthy of receiving it.
We are still between the waving of branches
and the weight of what must be carried.
And when Easter comes,
let it come not only to the people you serve,
but to you.
Let Easter come to your body,
to your spirit,
to the song rising in you for Sunday.
Let Easter come to every tired, faithful heart.
The donkey does not arrive shining.
Showing up is its own hallelujah.
Come as you are.
Grace has already gone ahead of you—
on dusty hooves
and floppy ears.
(By Sarah Skinner, 2026, written with love for those carrying palms, bulletins, and more than anyone can see)