Palm Sunday Reflections: Growing Through the Journey From Pain to Purpose

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”
— Psalm 30:5

Palm Sunday has always held a special place in my heart. It's the moment in scripture where praise and pain intersect—where Jesus is welcomed with palms and hosannas, even though He knows what lies ahead. It's a story of triumph laced with sacrifice, of commitment tested through hardship. And this year, it feels especially personal.

A few years ago, I went through a painful divorce. It was a season of shedding—letting go of what I thought my life would look like, grieving not only the relationship but the dreams we had built together. It was lonely. Humbling. And yet, it cracked me open in a way that made space for something deeper: growth.

Much like Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey—not a symbol of power, but of peace—I had to relearn how to move through life with grace instead of force. I had to choose to show up with love, even when I was hurting. To keep building my life, even when I felt broken. And most of all, I had to trust that there was purpose in the pain.

Palm Sunday reminds me that celebration and sacrifice often go hand in hand. People may cheer for you one day and then disappear the next. But the journey isn’t about the applause—it’s about the calling. It’s about committing to your growth, healing, and truth, even when it’s hard.

Through prayer, soul work, and a whole lot of surrender, I’ve come out stronger. I’ve built a life rooted in love—real love—the kind that starts within. I’ve embraced my role as a mother, creative healer, and woman of deep faith with more clarity than I ever had before. My pain didn't define me. It refined me.

So today, as I reflect on Palm Sunday, I’m reminded that the road to resurrection begins with a willing heart, that our hardest seasons can give birth to our most radiant ones, and that spiritual growth isn’t about avoiding hardship—it’s about walking through it with intention, hope, and trust.

To anyone else out there navigating a silent struggle, please know this: your path is sacred. Your tears are not wasted. And the version of you on the other side will be wiser, softer, braver, and more whole.

May this Holy Week remind us that even when the world shifts beneath us, our spirit—anchored in faith—can still rise.

With palms open and a heart full,
Mera