For me, this begins a week of mourning. It's a little like watching someone I love who is suffering from a fatal disease and is in their last days.
Palm Sunday is in some ways a joyous occasion. In our church, the children come into the sanctuary singing and waving palm branches, and all the songs are joyful. Yet--Jesus doesn't seem all that joyful on that day. He knows this is His last week of earthly ministry. He stops and mourns over Jerusalem, foretelling the horrors it will go through before long.
Only He knows the torture He will have to endure. He's tried to tell His followers, but they don't seem to understand. How He must have longed to talk to someone who would sympathize, but instead they thought, "Oh, boy! He'll be announcing His kingship any minute now! Look at all the people cheering Him! Rome will be defeated! The Jews will be restored to their former glory, and God will reign triumphant!"
But He alone knew, and He alone would dread the week ahead.
Now we know; and now I mourn with Him. Forgive me if tears are so near the surface that I cry instead of laugh at jokes. Let me be alone with Him this week.