King Jesus, why did you choose a lowly ass to carry you to ride in your parade? Had you no friend who owned a horse—a royal mount with spirit for a king to ride? Why choose an ass, small, unassuming beast of burden trained to plow not carry kings? King Jesus, why did you choose me, a lowly unimportant person to bear you in my world today? I’m poor and unimportant, trained to work not carry kings—let alone the King of kings, and yet you’ve chosen me to carry you in triumph in this world’s parade.