Easter always brings so much reflection for me. Reflecting on all the good things that God has done for me (and that is all the things, by the way).
Typically that’s a Thanksgiving activity. Being thankful. It’s really an all the time thing, but for me Easter really brings out the gratefulness in my heart for what He’s done for me. And not just me, for all mankind.
As I type this, it’s 8 in the morning on Good Friday. My family has been plagued with a nasty stomach bug since Monday. Brent and I are much better, but Scott and Lily are completely lethargic and hardly eating. They woke up around 6:30 and both are already back asleep.
We haven’t attended an Easter egg hunt.
I haven’t bought one single item for Lily or Scott for their Easter baskets.
They don’t even have an Easter basket.
No pictures with the creepy Easter bunny.
No professional Easter family pictures.
No new coordinating outfits for us to wear Easter Sunday. We were going to wear t-shirts from Forget the Frock, but quite frankly I didn’t have $82 to spend on t-shirts for the family.
We have to be at our home church on Sunday, as well as our families who live 2 hours away, so we won’t be enjoying a yummy meal with our families.
I boiled a dozen eggs so Lily and I can dye eggs, but there’s no guarantee we will actually get around to dying them because she hasn’t left the bed or couch since Wednesday night.
I plan to make resurrection rolls with Lily and Scott, that is if I can get to the store.
This isn’t only because we’ve been hanging our head over a toilet for a week. Most of this is because I’m not that mom. I enjoy making memories just as much as the next mom, but it doesn’t take much to stress me out so it’s best for everyone that I take the simple route. Just make Easter about Jesus and all that other stuff doesn’t have to happen.
I will say that the part of me that wishes I was that mom has felt sorry for my kids this week. Scott hasn’t had one taste of what Easter is. Lily missed two Easter egg hunts. There won’t be any cute sibling pictures in matching smocked outfits. Or any pictures with a chalkboard that says “My First Easter” written in the cutest colored chalk font that my fingers could never create. We won’t gather with family after church to eat and hide Easter eggs.
I have felt sorry for my kids. Like maybe they should have a better mom. A mom who cares about this Easter stuff.
WHAT IN THE WORLD?!
Jesus died. He drank the cup of wrath intended for me. He suffered for my sin. He was perfect, I am not. He was wounded so that I may be healed. He rose three days later. He had power over the grave. Y’all…HE CONQUERED DEATH so that we can be one with Him again.
How can conquering death even bother to compare with some plastic eggs filled with candy sitting atop Easter grass, the most annoying thing ever created next to glitter?
We are letting this year go by without hunting for eggs, but I’m trading my feelings of “I should care more about this. My poor kids…” and buying into the gratefulness in my heart of what Easter truly means.
Jesus rescued me when I was His enemy.
That’s the good news. That’s what really matters. That’s where my focus needs to be. I’ve never wanted anything more than for my kids to know Him.
It’s okay that I’m not that mom. And it’s okay if you are that mom.
But for the VKs, no bunnies or candy involved this Easter.