Day 43: Walking in Scripture

Thank You, God, for the Bible.

This week, as I prepare my heart for Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the celebration of Easter, I’m especially grateful for the way Scripture allows us to walk through Holy Week with Jesus. I’ve already thanked You for the gift of the Bible, but this week, the Word feels especially alive. These sacred pages are not just words—they are windows into the last days of Jesus’ earthly life.

We often focus on the major days in Scripture: Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. But even on Wednesday, there was activity in Jesus’ life and ministry.

Palm Sunday: We remember Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem with palm branches and a parade. Yet, in the shadows, we sense that something else is coming. You remind me how quickly praise can turn to betrayal.

Holy Monday: You show me Jesus’ zeal for what is right, even when it’s messy and confrontational, as He cleanses the temple.

Holy Tuesday: I see Your Son teaching truth and being anointed—a sign of what’s to come. Jesus continues to teach throughout Holy Week. He and His disciples go back and forth from Bethany to Jerusalem. And betrayal becomes more evident as the anointing is interpreted in different ways.

Holy Wednesday: The pain of betrayal begins to take form as Judas makes his deal. Jesus continues to teach, but when we know the rest of the story, we see the rising tension, the arguments, and how people are beginning to choose sides—either consciously or subconsciously.

Yes, there are debates about the exact timeline, and no, not everything fits neatly onto a calendar. Was it Sunday or Monday when Jesus cleared the temple? Was it Tuesday or Wednesday when Judas agreed to betray Him? But the story is clear enough: every day, Jesus chose obedience. Every day, He moved closer to the cross, fully knowing what lay ahead.

And the people? The people were just... people. Like us.

And this is where my gratitude becomes uncomfortable. I see myself in the crowd. I see myself in Judas’ justification, in Pilate’s and Herod’s passivity, in the disciples’ fear, in the religious leaders’ pride, and in the crowd that simply wanted to belong. Holy Week holds a mirror up to my soul. It warns me how easy it is to miss Jesus—even while He’s right in front of me. How quickly I can be swayed by groupthink, self-preservation, or the desire to fit in. The true tragedy of Holy Week is how normal everyone acted—everyone except Jesus.

But what amazes me—and what fills me with awe—is that God loved us anyway. That God sent Jesus not because we were ready, not because we understood, not because we earned it, but because we weren’t and we didn’t. In the face of betrayal, denial, apathy, and cruelty, You stayed committed to redemption.

Thank You, God, for Holy Week.

Thank You for Jesus.

Thank You for loving us anyway.

And thank You for not giving up on us—on me—when we act like the crowd.

Amen.