April 02, 2013
Just so you know, family, I had plans in my head to send you all cards with Easter eggs on the front decorated with water colors and stickers by W. Can't you imagine it in your head? Okay, good, consider that the thought that counts. :)
I had plans to let W dye eggs. He dyed one egg blue, and honestly, I think that was enough because he still talks about it. We had about eight girl students come over one night to dye the rest while he was sleeping in the next room. Am I mean or what? He had no idea! But he loved waking up the next morning and looking at all of them. He also loved knocking about six of them off the table and telling me I needed to "clean the eggs up, Mommy." Now can you see why I was hyperventilating at the thought of him dying more than one egg?
I did manage to pack the eggs up and take them to the lake for a short little Easter egg hunt. I was kind of sad for him because I had fond memories of knocking over younger cousins to get to the eggs first and he just had Samford to knock out of the way. He did not like Samford pilfering in his eggs.
He really didn't know any different and was pretty proud of himself for finding all the eggs. By himself. After I pointed in their very specific vicinity.
He was also very proud of that one blue egg that he dyed.
We rushed back from the lake on Saturday so that we could attend our church on Sunday. We love our church... I mean, I'm borderline obsessed with our church. When we were praying for God to provide a church family for us in Hattiesburg, I was not even imagining His goodness to us. Just thinking about being away from our church family this summer makes my eyes well up with tears. But this is another post that I keep writing and rewriting in my head.
I keep nominating myself for the world's worst mother award... I didn't even get this child an Easter basket. I would love to chalk it up to being frugal or really spiritual, but it's mostly because I just don't like junk. And maybe a little bit of laziness. The sad part is, at lunch I teasingly said to Wilson "Did the Easter bunny come see you?" (I didn't think he even knew what the Easter bunny was... I mean he still calls Santa "Noah" like any good Christian child). And he says, "Yeah! He did! He brought me candy and a bulldozer."
Oh, my heart! Did another child tell him this? Or did he dream it or wish it? Just thinking he had a desire that we didn't meet makes my heart break... but then I remember that who he really needs (and who he really desires even if he doesn't know it) is Jesus. And we talk about Jesus all the time. Not just on Resurrection Sunday.
We tried to get him to take some obligatory family Easter photos with us... and in true Silly Willy fashion, he decided he wanted to pose behind me with his hands in the air. Typical.
The day really didn't turn out like we had planned at all. I was hoping to do a family picnic after church but the weather was iffy and I never made it to the grocery the night before. Anyway, it was a good reminder to me that the miracle of Jesus' victory over death was still just as true in the mundane as it is in the spectacular. (Our pastor made this short aside in his prayer and it was a much needed reorientation for my heart before the sermon.)
The truth of the resurrection becomes more dear to me every year. I find myself clinging on with white knuckles to the truth that "It is finished." A perfect life... finished. A perfect substitution... finished. The great bridge of safety over death... finished. These anxious thoughts have no ground to stand on when I remember that "It is finished." Thank you, Jesus.