Wednesday, April 03, 2013


Reflecting back on Holy Week . . . thinking about the steps the Savior trod into Jerusalem, the palm branches waving to the cries of "Hosanna," save now! . . . the washing of the feet, the agony in the garden, the betrayal, the lashings and beatings and mocking, the tears, the body of Jesus hanging on a tree all because of LOVE.  Friday.  But then came Sunday.  Resurrection.  VICTORY.

Jesus strides forth as the victor,
     conqueror of death, hell, and all opposing might;
He bursts the bands of death,
     tramples the powers of darkness down,
     and lives for ever.
He, my gracious surety,
     apprehended for payment of my debt,
     comes forth from the prison house of the grave
     free, and triumphant over sin, Satan, and death.

Adorable redeemer,
     thou who was lifted up upon a cross
     art ascended to highest heaven.
Thou, who as man of sorrows wast crowned with thorns,
     art now as Lord of life wreathed with glory.

What more could be done than thou hast done!
     Thy death is my life, thy resurrection my peace,
     thy ascension my hope, thy prayers my comfort.

A Puritan Prayer from The Valley of Vision

On that Resurrection Sunday morn, we awoke with a vigor to attend the early Son-rise service.  But I didn't wake up early enough so Ellie was still in her pajamas, and we had to come back home afterwards and then go back for Sunday school and church.
Yes, there were eggs and baskets and hunts and such.
I think these boys found all of their eggs in less than 20 seconds.  And their baskets were full.
This girl, on the other hand, was a little more selective.  There were eggs laying everywhere (literally.  The grass wasn't tall enough to "hide" anything.), but she kept on walking through the maze of eggs until she found the colors she wanted.  And, if they weren't the right color, she just kept on going and left them for someone else to pick up!
I think Mason filled his basket and dumped it several times before he came away with his eggs.
And here's what this sweet baby thought about those plastic eggs:
In between the early church time and Sunday school, we tried to get pictures of children and baskets.
And, yes, Ellie does have a basket!  It was sitting on the floor.
It's difficult getting the picture of one child, much less three children.  Or six kids.  Especially when one has a stomach virus, one is hungry and I'm sure I could come up with something for the other four, too.
Like I said, getting the "perfect" picture is hard.  Case in point below.  Ellie looks like she wants to hit somebody!
In the midst of the eggs and baskets and bonnets and dresses and early morning church and cantatas and all of the things that we have made to be Easter . . . the only thing that matters is the cross.  The love.  The sacrifice.  The resurrection!

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