The Useless Donkey

It’s usually a good beginning. Or so I think. 

I jump-start my week with the cheering Palm Sunday crowd, the grand parade welcoming Jesus as He enters Jerusalem riding on the strangely anti-climatic beast - a donkey!

One year this is as far as I got.  It was as if the donkey slammed on his hoof-brakes, mid-parade and spoke to me, as donkeys sometimes do - although this was the first - and only time so far - a donkey spoke to me.

If you heard this donkey’s story, you couldn’t help but feel a lot of kinship towards the lowly beast of burden. 

His was an intensly sad tale of a creature who wanted so badly to be of service, to be not useless but useful. Still he remained tied inside his donkey pen day after day, chewing his hey, bypassed, ignored, marginalized and flat-out denied as his life flitted away.  

All other donkeys got to feel good about themselves and how wonderfully helpful they were to their masters.  

But not this donkey. 

Every other beast of burden could flood their Facebook wall with pictures of all the wonderful projects they’ve been a part of and all the amazing people they got to meet, important and famous people who even patted their backs in gratitude for their much-appreciated service.  

But not this donkey.

This donkey fought his valiant battles stuck inside the smelly stable, swishing flies with his matted tail.

The gargantuan battles against the onslaught of doubts.

Does the Creator even remember him? Will he die here, useless worthless donkey?

The hoof-wrestling matches with envy, and discouragement, and hoof-stomping rage, and hopelessness and utter loss of purpose.

Why does every other donkey get to live a meaningful donkey life, even FUN donkey life???... Every other stinky donkey except for him???

Alas, all the poor depressed donkey received for all his torment and all his suffering was... silence.