Palm Sunday. It is hard to preach as I look out at my son in a wheelchair. I shudder with thanksgiving as I think of what might have been (and as I continue to think of Bret and Jennifer Bourland); but it's still hard to see. Today as all the children bring their palm branches down to the front, I'll be reminded again that there is one who was and is the victorious King -- not a king like they or we might have thought. But a King, nevertheless. As out-of-control as life seems, it isn't. Not completely. There is One who is moving everything inexorably to a grand conclusion.