in its purest form

They brought the donkey and the colt, placed their cloaks on them, and Jesus sat on them.

A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches

from the trees and spread them on the road.

The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,

"Hosanna to the Son of David!"

"Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"

"Hosanna in the highest!"

Brandon and I visited Oak Hills Church in San Antonio this morning. We had never been to a church that large before, but we've been reading Max Lucado's books for several years, and had heard that he was an amazing speaker, so we were curious.

I've had a really big change of heart in the last few years when it comes to different kinds of churches - moving from "this isn't what I'm used to - that's not worship" to "wow - praise God for excitement and variety among His people!"

It's been very liberating to say the least.

So this morning, as the band began playing Hosanna (one of my favorites), and people started taking their seats, I noticed some commotion coming up the aisles. Seventy-five little kids making their way up to the stage. They all pulled out palm leaves and began waving them wildly in the air.

As all of these 4 and 5 year olds got up to their places, the palm leaves waved a little more wildly and the sound of these sweet voices shouting "Hosanna!" filled the room.

"Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna in the highest!"

One hundred and fifty little hands reached toward the sky, smiles on every face, and praises to their Lord pouring from their lips.

I leaned over to whisper to Brandon, "This is the purest, most beautiful worship I have ever witnessed," but I couldn't get the words out without getting choked up.

Whenever I see something that praises the Lord so beautifully, with such innocence, it reminds me of the character of God. Not the character that we assign to him or want him to have - but who he is and was before mankind even existed. Sometimes I get so caught up in who I want him to be, that I forget he was before I was. It sounds like such a simple concept, but I forget it so easily.

He deserves my worship. Not just when I feel like it - all the time. It is my purpose.

Those little kids up there weren't concerned about a paper that they had to finish writing, or a bill that had to be paid...they were concerned with only one thing - their purpose. And you could see it on their faces and hear it in their sweet voices.

On the way home this evening, Brandon and I marveled at the breathtaking sunset that lay before us. Hot pink and purple - incredible. I heard Brandon whisper, "Wow ... thank you, God."

And that's just it. Creation declares the glory of the Lord.

Sunsets... flowers... mountains... little kids waving palm leaves in the air...

They declare his glory in the purest, most innocent way. Because sometimes I forget to.

Thank you, my Lord, for being who you are...for never changing...for deserving to be worshipped even when my praise seems so insufficient. Thank you for opening my eyes to true worship - in its purest form.