Although my Easter parent education training is not yet complete (I may have skipped the required Easter Bunny 101 course and thus the Easter Bunny doesn't even know where we live let alone visit us this year), I did attempt this year to do a few holiday-appropriate things. These included taking G on two Easter Egg hunts, resurrected (pun intended) my mother's traditional nest-egg donuts, albeit home-made and gluten free, and dressed the kids up in their Easter best, including making G a bow tie.
|Ready to hunt. The compost bucket will do, right?|
|Heath Street Baptist Church Egg Hunt.|
|Enjoying the sunshine in our back garden|
|Esther's Easter dress was about 100 years old, purchased at Newark with the chaise lounge on which she sits|
|Because one picture is never enough, right?|
|What candy face?|
Yet instead of creating more holiday mayhem, I attempted to focus this year on Easter's true focal point: the Savior.
(Warning: this post is about to get very personal.) I have been overwhelmed lately with changes I need to make. Turns out I love conditionally and am rather controlling - neither of which has healthy outcomes when you are a wife and mother. I am attempting to change a culture - mine.
I struggled to find hope of success. I couldn't possibly get what I wanted without controlling my environment, right? (Don't laugh - it sucks when you wake up to your reality and the only way out is to let go. Terrifying, actually.)
I was hopeless but for the fact that I knew I had a Savior. I couldn't, but He could, that I knew. So I started praying, and praying hard that my heart would let go of the past and allow Him to build me anew.
I prayed for an Easter miracle. I wanted *my* tomb to be empty - I wanted new life and a new heart.
Easter weekend started with Cafe Rio (the best Tex Mex in Utah) and my faith's annual General Conference. (I love it when the two coincide - Conference is the first weekend in October and April). As it began, I listened with intent to find my miracle. Nothing yet. But I was reminded while watching that perfect love casts out fear, and fear was causing me to be controlling. So if I could be given God's perfect love, I really could let go.
This mental shift precipitated an emotional and spiritual shift. I awoke Sunday morning with a lightness. I wasn't sure if it was the sunshine or if I really felt a different on the inside.
But I did. Instead of being fearful, I wanted to trust, love, and let go. It was a soft kind of a change, one I would have missed had I not been praying for it, and I'm sure it could be easily snuffed out if I wasn't on the lookout for old habits that could crowd out and overtake the newness. But it *was* a change of heart, one that has begun, I hope, to change my life. I am excited to learn how to live with my new self. So far, so good.
Because He lives, I have hope in a new kind of life for myself. One in which I can love without judgment and without control.
|Chalcot Square near our home was appropriately decorated for the holiday, with Easter Egg-colored homes and trees in full bloom.|
How did you celebrate the newness of life this Easter? What do you know is true and are grateful of because He lives?