After months of dance classes two days a week, recital day finally came. Sometimes the nights are long waiting on her, but I'm always reminded at the recital how quickly it went. This was Hannah Kate's eighth year of dancing. She again took two ballet classes, jazz and lyrical. The theme for this year's recital was Iconic. So every dance represented something or someone "iconic." Let's just say it was iconic in more ways than one . . .
Abbie has only two years of dancing before she graduates. I'm not sure how that happened either.
I usually don't take pictures during the dances because they just don't turn out. But this year's recital was in a different venue because they are renovating the theater. There were so many things I liked much better this year, and I even got a decent picture or two. Hannah Kate's first dance was ballet. She is on the far left.
Their ballet dance was a polka. Mrs. Katherine really challenged Hannah Kate this year. She has grown so much as a dancer . . . poise, grace . . . and I know that's a direct result of Mrs. Katherine's ballet classes. Her classes are always beautifully choreographed and technically excellent. This one was no exception. We love Mrs. Katherine! Hannah Kate enters from stage left. She is the first dance in the second group of girls and ends up in the center group. I actually filmed this at the dress rehearsal.
I loved Hannah Kate's lyrical costume this year. I was hoping she would have her dance picture taken in it, but she chose a different costume. As hard as it is sometimes, I generally let her make all of her clothing choices, even when I would rather something different.
Her lyrical dance represented World Wars. It was a beautiful dance, and she always loves lyrical. This was a really big class this year so you'll have to look hard to catch her. She is the first one on the front row to enter stage left after the four girls dance. She pushes to the back for the first sequence and then her group moves off stage. When her group comes back on stage, she ends up on the front row second from the right. This, too, was filmed at the dress rehearsal.
And then there was the moment we've all been waiting for since October . . . the Daddy Daughter Dance! I still can't believe her class was chosen for this, as usually the youngest classes are chosen. She danced with her Daddy her very first year. So this was his second time on the big stage. We had so much fun - and a lot of giggles - with this one. But here they are recital ready (except now that I'm looking at this, her jazz shoes are missing, and her tights are rolled up).
This dance represented American Bandstand. It was a sock hop Danny and Sandy style. Much to my dismay, Seth had never seen Grease before and didn't even know who Danny and Sandy are. So we had to watch a few YouTube videos. They did the hand jive. The dads did Greased Lightenin (yes, they had their own solo part). And they brought down the house! Seriously, it was the most entertaining dance of the entire recital, and the audience loved it. Miss Jordan did a great job with the choreography. It was just so much fun! I did take a video of the rehearsal (Hannah Kate's facial expressions are priceless!), but the dads weren't in costume. And we had to come home and work on Greased Lightenin a bit more. So I'm not going to post it here. But here are some still shots from the recital. Hannah Kate is on the front row in the center.
One of the things I enjoyed most about this dance was watching Hannah Kate interact with her Daddy. I didn't capture that at all with these pics, but the video is priceless. Once the recital video is finished, I'll post it here.
And then, just like that, after all those months of dance classes and rehearsals and hair and makeup and costumes . . . it was over and we were headed home.
I've said it before. My mama really wanted me to take dance, but I begged and begged to take piano lessons instead. I didn't like dancing. But Mama took piano lessons briefly when she was a child, and she didn't like it. She finally agreed to let me take piano lessons instead so my ballet slippers were retired after only two years. I'm so glad though that Hannah Kate loves to dance! Recital day is always one of my favorite days of the year!
Here we are at the close of another school year. We now have a 9th grader, 6th grader and 2nd grader. I have to admit that on August 13, 2018, the year ahead seemed daunting. It always does on the first day of school. There were some very long days and a lot of hard work, but through it all God was faithful. He is always faithful! And so we gathered together last Thursday night for Celebratio, a celebration of the end of a school year, a year of learning and growing, but, most of all, a celebration of God's faithfulness.
We listened to Scripture and literature recitations and songs for over two hours. Some would scoff or roll their eyes, and most don't understand why the emphasis on recitation in classical Christian education. It was definitely a new thing for us when we began the classical Christian education journey five years ago, but I see so clearly and appreciate the beauty of it, the value in it and the necessity. What we fill our minds with matters. We may not be diligently and purposefully memorizing long passages of Scripture or Shakespeare or Tolkien or Lewis or Augustine or Homer, but we are filling our minds. Make no mistake about it. And at the end of the day, I pray my children recall the words of Scripture or some of the classical literature they've studied instead of the world's noise.
"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy - meditate on these things." ~Philippians 4:8
If I want to mediate on those things, I must - every single day - make the purposeful, diligent effort to do so. I have to pray Colossians 3:2 every. single. day. "Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth." My pastor growing up used to say we have to get rid of "stinkin' thinkin'." He probably still says that. If I get caught up in the latest news feed or social media feed or community gossip, it breeds nothing but stinkin' thinkin'. So, yes, I am more than willing to sit and listen as these students recite Scripture and the classics.
Ellie's sweet 1st grade class recited Proverbs 16:24, 15:1, 6:6 and 17:17, "The Swing" by Robert Louis Stevenson and The Doxology.
Hannah Kate's 5th grade class recited Sanctus in Latin and English, Matthew 5:2-16, the Preamble to the Constitution and "Thew New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus.
Mason's 8th grade class recited Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene 2 (Antony's speech). I have loved the creativity of this class this year. These kids and their families are really special, and I am grateful for this little community.
This kid has grown up this year - literally and figuratively. He continues to amaze me. This school stuff is not easy for him, and I absolutely hate how difficult some of this stuff is for him. Someone asked me last week what he struggled with this year. I thought about it for a minute. I didn't have an answer. Was it hard? YES. Did he have to work hard? ABSOLUTELY. But, looking back, there wasn't anything that was impossible or that he didn't understand or that he couldn't do. His Latin teacher - who knows our story and understands it more than most because his son, too, is dyslexic - told me last week that he was amazed at Mason's progress and work this year and what he's able to accomplish in spite of the unique challenges of dyslexia. "Most" dyslexics do not excel in a foreign language, much less take one. That's a subject I don't even have to help him with except to quiz him for tests.
This was his entry in the art fair. No, he didn't trace it. He drew it free hand. I meant to ask him why he chose this particular drawing, but I forgot. Regardless, we've come a long ways from those occupational therapy days!
The most daunting assignment he had this year came the last six weeks of the semester. He had to write a 5-page paper. A 1-page paper is no small task for him, much less five pages! He also had to choose his own topic. He loved his humanities class this year (which, again, is only by the grace of God), and Mr. A did such a phenomenal job teaching his students. Mason really wanted to take responsibility and be more independent in this class this year so I let him as much as possible. Needless to say, he chose his thesis WITHOUT CONSULTING ME. He comes home one day and asks me to help him with his proofs. Sure. I can do that. What's your thesis?
I want to prove that Jesus is not a myth.
Can you imagine what emoji I would insert right here?! After much conversation and a lot of questions so we could really hone in on his thesis, he modified it a bit to instead prove that Christianity is not a myth. As the paper progressed, it evolved into a comparison of Christianity to Roman/Greek mythology. Yes, indeed. Apologetics for an 8th grader. Again, CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT EMOJI I WOULD INSERT RIGHT HERE?! I'm really no good with apologetics. You know why? The Bible says so. THE END. (Okay, not really. But kind of.). It took him about a month to write the paper, and it ended up at almost six pages. I did spend a lot of time at the table with him as he continued developing his proofs and researching for content, but the work was his.
This girl right here. Goodness, I see so much of myself in her. She's so independent. She doesn't want any help at all, especially with anything school related. She just gets it. And she does it. Because we've had so many changes with schooling, she's not had the opportunity to forge any deep friendships. I thought that was happening last year, but that family experienced a change in their schooling situation, and Hannah Kate went back to school in August yet again "starting over" in the friendship department. That's been a hard thing for me as her mom because I want her to have that. I had a very best friend from kindergarten all the way through high school. I do not think of my school days apart from her. She was a huge part of my life, and I want a friend like that for Hannah Kate, too. The Lord sent a new family to Sequitur this year, and He sent a new friend for Hannah Kate. They share a lot in common, including their name! They've had playdates. And they also like to talk on the phone. We no longer have a land line, and none of my kids have a cell phone so she has to use my phone. When she's talking, she ignores all of my texts and calls and returns my phone about three hours later. I'm not even kidding. But, again, I remember doing the exact same thing. I'd come home from school and as soon as homework was finished and piano was practiced, I was on the phone.
And this girl! All she wanted to do on the first day of 1st grade was read a chapter book. And she nailed it before Christmas. Her favorite series is The Boxcar Children. When I asked her why, she said it's because she likes mysteries. Hopefully that means she'll like Nancy Drew, one of my favorite series when I was growing up! She's on book 4 now. Her handwriting is beautiful. She is very serious about school. As a matter of fact, we've been out a week now, and she's already declared that "August is too far away" because she is "ready to go back to school." Needless to say, that was not popular with her older siblings. That's really not popular with Momma right now either if you want to know the truth! I'm not sure why, but it just seems to me like she's so much older than she really is. Her birthday isn't until July so she is still six years old (going on 16). But she's a boss, I can tell you. I wish I could keep her little for awhile longer. I wasn't sure how she would respond to "school" this year, and I even worried that I hadn't adequately prepared her for 1st grade. But she excelled. I guess I shouldn't even be surprised.
Now we're on the verge of entering, for us, unchartered territory. High school. (Along with a middle schooler and an elementary schooler . . . insert another one of those emojis here!). I have no doubt that first school day in August will open the door to our most daunting year yet. I've already heard "stories" about 9th grade. You know what kind of "stories" I'm talking about. As a matter of fact, if I even go there right now, my mind is filled with angst. So that's why I can't. That's why it is imperative that I SET my mind and FILL my mind. God was faithful in kindergarten. He was faithful in 2nd grade and 3rd grade. He was faithful in 5th grade and 7th grade. He was faithful in 8th grade. And He WILL BE FAITHFUL in 9th grade. Lysa TerKeurst posted this on one of her social media platforms this week. It was perfect timing, and it was just for me. So I'm going to leave it here, too.
Sometimes I struggle trusting God with my kids. Can any moms out there relate?
When my middle daughter chose her college, I wanted to give her a list a mile long on why she absolutely should not go to that school.
But God. He had a plan I never could have imagined.
He had a woman at the school praying for her. He had friends waiting to love her. He had small group leaders waiting to show her how to have a real relationship with Jesus. And He had a young man waiting to fall in love with her and make her a preacher’s wife.
He also had a powerful lesson for me. Planning out my children’s lives isn’t my job. My best job as a mom is to be obedient to God. God’s job is everything else.
Because God is good. And only God is good at being God.
I had to take a little trip to San Antonio the week of spring break. Seth and his parents took the kids to Uncle Barry's camp and fishing the first part of that week. Seth, PawPaw and the big kids left Easter Sunday afternoon and went fishing on Monday morning. This was the first picture I got. Seth said she was quite the little fisherwoman and fished the whole time they were on the water.
This kid isn't as patient if the fish aren't biting. But he reeled in a few.
MawMaw and Ellie headed down there on Monday afternoon. It should be noted here that when you go fishing with PawPaw and Daddy, you have to get up before the chickens (and the sunshine) so you can be in the boat on the water at daybreak. The plan was to go fishing again Tuesday morning, and Ellie was supposed to go this time. She's been in a boat many times, but she's never been out fishing like that, and we weren't really sure how she was going to do. It's not like you can turn around and go inside if you get tired of being out there. You're kind of stuck, and you might be out there for several hours. I was doubtful she'd even get up out of the bed so early. But she's been asking to go fishing for a very long time now and seemed to be really excited about the trip so I was hopeful she'd end up in the boat. No doubt Hannah Kate would be up and ready to go again.
I love the expression on her face here. Seth said that fish fought and fought with her, but she hung on and finally reeled him into the boat.
Mason snagged a few, too. He actually caught a baby hammerhead shark, but I don't have that picture to post.
Now THAT'S a fish.
Here's something else you should know about the week of spring break. MawMaw lets Ellie play on her phone (which is a total luxury because she isn't allowed to play on my phone or her dad's phone). Ellie talks to Siri and knows her way around social media. She also "friended" some of the teachers at Sequitur on her MawMaw's Facebook account (do you understand now why she isn't allowed to touch my phone?!). While I was gone, she pretty much blew my phone up with all of her texts (this is a whole 'nother post so stay tuned for that!). She put an "E" or "e" after each one so I'd know it was her and not MawMaw. So this is the conversation with Ellie on Monday afternoon while she was in the car on the way to the camp (and please note her use of emojis, too):
Back to the Tuesday morning fishing trip . . . I got this picture later in the day. I was so excited that she went! And just look at that smile!
I mean, I don't know about you, but it looks to me like girlfriend is having a lot of fun fishing . . . and it was, indeed, "werth" it!
But. Not so fast. This is the "conversation" later on Tuesday afternoon. She texted me and asked what I was doing.
I mean, did you follow that?! Do you see what's going on here? Big sis has to jump into the convo to be sure I know Ellie had a meltdown on the boat. I get it. I really do. I can't handle "the bucket" either.
Wednesday morning they scheduled a fishing trip with a guide. Ellie was adamant that she was not going. I talked to her that night and tried to convince her to go, especially since she had so much fun fishing before the bucket incident. Abbie was going on Wednesday, too, so I was sure that would get Ellie into the boat. But nope. She stayed at the camp with MawMaw on Wednesday while everyone else went out and reeled in the fish. And then she wants to jump in the picture like she had something to do with it!
No, I am not wearing heels. Yes, at the tender age of 13, he is taller than me. Now that we have that out of the way . . .
I've decided that I have the best kids in the whole, wide world! And you know what? You do, too! These are the ones the Lord ordained for me . . . because He knew exactly the children I needed, and He knew the children who needed me. Same for you!
Isn't it crazy how the best thing in the world can also be one of the hardest . . . how you go to bed thinking you can't possibly do it anymore yet wake up the next morning so thankful you get to do it all over again . . . If I were to sum up motherhood in one word, I'd probably say inadequate. Because that's how I feel most of the time. Not enough . . . I spend so much time dwelling, worrying that I'm not teaching them enough, not praying with them enough, not helping them pursue their interests or talents enough (like the kids who have their own businesses or can bake a cake from scratch without a recipe or paint like Picasso or grow their own gardens or play the violin and I could go on and on and on), not spending enough time with them (I mean, craziness!), not enough, not enough, not enough. But my goodness! I finally realized I don't want to be enough . . . because they need all the room for Jesus they can get! Mason and I were talking the other day about how you really can't understand the meaning of life or your purpose in life without knowing the Lord (and before you begin to be impressed by this conversation, you should know it happened only because of a paper he is working on for his final in humanities!). The empty places and spaces can only be filled and fulfilled by Him. Not only do they need Jesus, but I do, too! It's all of the "not enough's" that drive me on my knees to Him, that remind me daily the desperate need I have for Him. I have to remind myself over and over that He loves them more than I do! He has a plan for each of their lives, and it is a GOOD plan! Next Thursday night will mark another milestone, a new era for us. Mason will be in 9th grade. High school. Four more years. I've no doubt they will be the longest, shortest four years! I have to admit the LAST thing I wanted to do tonight was proofread a paper and review Algebra for a final. I just really don't think I'll miss those things. At all. Maybe I will, but I doubt it. In the meantime, I have four more years of it with Mason, and I don't expect those four more years in regards to school to be any kind of easy at all. But just because it's hard doesn't mean I can't enjoy it. Or find joy in it. So I'm going to keep proofing papers and grading Algebra because that's time spent at the table with my boy, and that time is precious. It's fleeting. And I want to make it all count. A couple of months ago we had a pretty hard, long stretch. I was tired. So tired. Seth was out of town. It was a Wednesday so it had been such a busy day since about 5:00AM. It was mid-afternoon, and all I wanted to do was lay down and take a nap. But supper needed to be cooked so I could take Hannah Kate to her 2-hour dance class. It would be a late night. And all I could think about was laying down. After Ellie and I finished her read aloud, I just sat on the sofa for a few minutes. I felt guilty about sitting down because there was unfolded laundry on the bed, another load that needed to be washed, Algebra that needed to be graded, supper that needed to be cooked. So many things to do, and I was just sitting there! I wasn't even "spending time with my children." Do you see where I'm going with this? Just a whole pile of guilt and not enough heaping on! And then I heard something. Mason and Hannah Kate are in the habit of closing themselves off in their rooms to study or do school work every afternoon. This isn't Ellie's favorite time of day because she does not like spending time "alone." She never has played well independently. And sometimes I just can't because of all the other things. So this year she has just had to learn what to do with herself for an hour or two sometimes. She is so proud of herself for learning how to read this year, and she has begun going through every single book on the bookshelf, reading each one to her audience of baby dolls. On this particular day, she chose a book that my mom gave me when Mason was born. I'm sure you know it. I'll love you forever. I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be. Can I just be honest? That book is so sad to me, and I can hardly read it! I mean, it's true and all. I tell Mason all the time that it doesn't matter how much taller than me he grows. He'll always be my baby boy. So there I was feeling all kinds of "mom guilt." And Ellie is reading that book to her babies. In that moment, I could hear the Lord's gentle whisper . . . you're enough because I'm enough. I had to be careful that Ellie didn't see me because she would've stopped reading.
A few days later the same thing happened, only that day she was reading one of her Bibles to her babies. For all the times I fall short in the spiritual training of these children, this was just another reminder that the Lord is right there to pick up the pieces and fit them together just perfectly. She has since finished this particular Bible and read the entire New Testament to her babies.
I find myself lately just staring at them . . . the wonder that these three children have been entrusted to me for a time for their physical care and wellbeing, their spiritual training and instruction . . . these three children who were knit together in my tummy . . . and wondering just who they will be when they "grow up" and what they will do . . . I always thought if I could keep them little, I would. But I've changed my mind. Because there's so much I would miss out on! Watching them grow up and being a small part of that is such a delight. I mean, we have our moments, our days that I just want to be over and done with. But at the end of every single day, I wouldn't change a thing!
I feel like it's been winter time the past 18 months. Not literally, of course. Just a time of winter. There are a very few sermons I've heard over the course of my lifetime that I remember. One such sermon was in 2005. Our pastor at the time was preaching about faith. He said, "Faith is not about believing that God CAN do it. It's about believing that God WILL do it." I've thought about that over and over since then. I mean, I believe that God CAN do anything. ANYTHING! There is absolutely nothing He cannot do. But. Do I believe that He WILL do it, that He WILL do the thing I'm praying for? So many times the answer is honestly . . . no. I do not. So that has really challenged me over the years and is one of the things that has radically changed my prayer life.
There was something - a really BIG something - I was praying and believing God for. I knew He COULD do it. I didn't know HOW. But I figured that didn't matter because He is God, and He CAN do it. I was also confident that not only could He do it, but He WOULD do it. After all, it was a very good thing. It was a much better thing in my mind, and it made perfect sense. It would "solve a lot of problems." It was "the answer." So during the past two years, the door finally began to open a crack. That crack was all I needed. I was CERTAIN it was coming. You know. IT. One time in particular the door actually swung wide open, but before we could walk through it, it closed. So I kept on praying. After all, I was sure it would open again. This past fall there was another crack in the door. But before it could swing open, it slammed shut.
I knew it shut. I knew deep down that, not only was it shut, but it was locked. I didn't stop praying though. Nor did I voice it. Because as soon as I did that, I knew the key was thrown away. My plan was "better," and I wasn't about to scrap it for a new one, even if that new one was really THE BEST (because, let's face it, it was God's plan). Seth and I hadn't really talked about it. We'd talked around it. But we'd never really faced it. And then a couple of months ago he looked at me and said, "That door closed." And that was it for me. It had been winter for a very long time, and then a hard, deep freeze set in. It wasn't pretty.
Around the same time, everyone around here started planting their gardens. It was only March, but planting season comes early because it gets so warm so quickly. I've enjoyed my little raised beds over the years. I love the whole process of planting and watering and growing and harvesting. But it also frustrates me because I don't have the time I need to spend out there tending to it, and it usually ends up a hot mess. By the time June rolls around, I'm kind of done with it anyway because it's literally so muggy and hot outside. Last year I decided I wasn't even going to fool with it at all. I could just bum fresh garden veggies from my father-in-law. That's pretty much what I did. He gave me some leftover tomato plants and insisted I plant them so I did. But that's about all I did. All of my beds had since grown over with weeds and were a horrid sight to see. I'd decided not to plant this year either for all the reasons I just mentioned. Besides, as much as I hated the sight of those overgrown beds, I hated even more the thought of getting out there and putting in the work to actually clean them up. I just couldn't do it. I even thought of getting rid of them altogether so I wouldn't have to look at them. Next thing I know, Seth spends six hours out there one Saturday getting all my beds ready for planting. I didn't ask him to do that, and he certainly didn't have the time to do it. But he did.
I was afraid those beds were going to be overtaken by weeds again before I had time to plant. But my dear friend told me that for my birthday she wanted to take me to buy some plants for my garden. So she did. Those plants sat on my back porch for two weeks before I had time to plant them, but the girls and I got out there Easter weekend and planted everything. Signs of spring and growth and new life . . .
Around the same time, I also hung ferns on the back porch. I just think there's nothing more southern than ferns hanging on a porch (except maybe sweet tea. . . and magnolias . . . and peach pie). I began to notice a very frequent feathered visitor lighting on the top of one of my ferns. After several days I noticed the top of that fern was all smashed down and not fluffy like the other ones. I carefully took the fern down, and my suspicions were confirmed. There was a tiny little nest with four eggs sitting in the middle of it. That mama bird was crazy busy last week so I took the fern down again over the weekend. There are now three baby birdies in that nest. I haven't watered that fern for fear I will drown the babies, and I will most likely have to just replace the whole thing once they fly away. But I don't even care. It's worth it. I've enjoyed every minute watching that mama bird fly back and forth and into that nest. I look for her every morning when the sun comes up, I look for her every afternoon when we get home. I watched her sit on top of that nest and cover her babies this evening as a storm passed through and swung that basket back and forth while the rain blew in on it. Those speckled blue eggs and baby birds . . . another sign of spring and growth and new life . . .
Not only were my veggie garden beds a mess, but the landscaping in front of our house is also a disaster. Actually, there is no more landscaping. After all the time we spent out there after we built the house, we lost everything that was left last year due to bad dirt, poor drainage and some kind of beetle infestation that poisoned our crepe myrtle. Seth ripped it all out and worked really hard to fix the drainage problem. By the time he finally got that done, we needed a load of dirt to fill back in. It's been a year now or more, and we haven't had time to do anything else with it. We prepared the other side of the house for landscaping over three years ago and also haven't done anything with it since. I can't even stand it. I try to drive up the driveway with my eyes closed. Okay, so not really. But that's how much I hate it. Like that vegetable garden, it just represented to me weeds and barrenness. Undone. Winter.
But the one thing we didn't lose was my Grandmother's lilies. My mama and I dug these up out of her flower garden many years ago. I planted some at our house in Mississippi, and I planted them again after we built this house. Year after year after year they come right back up and smile at me, Grandmother smiles at me. The ones beside the garage are on full display this spring, and they make me so happy (although you can still see all of the barrenness behind them). But still. Signs of spring and growth and new life . . .
As I watched the girls dig holes and plant vegetables and cover them with dirt, I couldn't help but think that the hard freeze was melting, the winter time about to burst with spring. I wish I had a current picture of my garden . . . the zucchini and squash plants are bursting with blossoms, the tomatoes are thriving, the cucumber vines are beginning to climb the trellis.
I'd love to live somewhere that experiences a true winter because I just think there's something so magical about falling snow and frozen lakes and icicle covered trees. I love winter time for so many reasons. There's so much beauty in the barrenness of it (but not in front of my house!). That's what promotes such a beautiful spring. And maybe that's what makes the flowers even more beautiful, the veggies even more tasty.
A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to experience a thawing of sorts. I'd been barren for a long time. Letting go of my plan that I had clung to and prayed diligently for and really believed God would do it was humbling, to say the very least. I was undone. I NEEDED to be undone. And I'm still not quite there yet. But there are signs of spring and new growth.
Easter came late this year. It seemed like we were waiting and waiting and waiting. I know I am living in the present reality of Jesus' resurrection, and that has made all the difference in my life. But by the time Easter Sunday finally came, I was so ready. I couldn't help but think of Jesus' disciples, the women who would eventually go to His tomb early that first Resurrection Sunday morning, the centurion and the others with him would would exclaim, "Truly this was the Son of God!" (Matthew 27:54) upon Jesus' death on the cross . . . that Saturday for them must've been the longest day ever. The saddest day ever. Did they believe, did they expect Jesus to rise from the dead? Or did they feel the heavy weight of hopelessness? Did they truly understand that they weren't without hope at all but instead about to experience LIVING hope?
Just before Jesus died, he uttered the words, "It is finished." These are the words, this is the verse that pressed on my heart this Easter season. So much was finished that day. Sin is forgiven, the work of man's redemption and salvation is completed, Satan is done.
Easter is all about Jesus. Eggs have nothing to do with it, but we did enjoy an egg hunt and dying some eggs, too. One of us is "too old" for egg hunts now. One of us can't decide whether or not she's too old for an egg hunt so she just does it anyway. And another of us just "thinks" she's too old for an egg hunt. But, needless to say, there were two who filled their baskets.
I can't even remember now where the boys were, but the girls dyed some eggs. I'd forgotten to buy white eggs so all I had were brown ones. I wasn't sure that they would dye very well, but google assured me they would dye even better than the white ones. I have to say after all was said and dyed, google was right! These are the best eggs we've ever done.
Look carefully at that teal colored egg on the left. That's one of Ellie's. They tried writing something on their egg before they dyed it, and Ellie decided to write, "I love Jesus." That was all her idea. Hannah Kate, on the other hand, wrote, "pizza" on hers. She said she was hungry.
We also did some glitter eggs this year. I'm so not a fan of glitter unless it's somewhere other than my house. But this wasn't too bad, and it actually worked.
Here they are with all the pretty eggs. They were dyed, stickered, shrink-wrapped, glittered.
Easter Sunday is a full day for us. We always begin with a sunrise service at 7:00AM. This year we had it outside at the new little community walking trail. This was actually my favorite part of the whole day.
We didn't get a family picture this year, but the kids were mostly cooperative for a basket picture after church. Aren't they lovely?!