Hosanna

The music was super-loud at church today.

Or I am becoming an old person.

Or possibly both.

In any case, the volume was such that no one seemed to mind the extremely loud babbling of a Little One.

Little One always loves the music at church, but today he loved it more than usual.  Clapping and dancing, he yelled at the top of his lungs.

DA DA DA.

Little One has been practicing lots of sounds lately.

One of the favorites is Da.

There is no Da in our house.

I actually think it means “that.”

Or maybe nothing at all.

Today, I imagine a crowd gathered to greet a humble king.

A celebration of One who upended expectations by embracing sinners and welcoming the marginalized.

I lay me down. I’m not my own.  I belong to you alone.

DA DA DA

Break my heart for what breaks yours.  Everything I am for your kingdom’s cause.

DA DA DA

That.  That.  That.

I am grateful for a Savior who treasures the Little Ones.

I am grateful for a church that doesn’t mind the loud babbling of a toddler.

Because today, I’m pretty sure DA DA DA means

Hosanna.

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