This was a sweet Easter season for us. We celebrated Easter Sunday together at home for breakfast and baskets before heading out to church, and then to our family party. Luke and James woke up before everyone else and read the Easter story together, which I sleepily overheard. The rest of us awoke to the sizzle, smell and pop of bacon downstairs. The kids waited til after breakfast to do their baskets and we chatted away as we ate together.
The morning was notably unhurried! We spent a special morning at church singing and celebrating, admiring the callalillies carefully lining the crucifix. As one does, we took in the aroma of lit candles all about, watching the kids eyes in wonder of it all. We later feasted with family, enjoying a full afternoon before heading home and scooping our exhausted, happy children out of the car and into their beds.
This year, I found myself deeply connected to the beauty and rhythm of Easter season. It was something of a pilgrimage in my heart, that I mulled for the weeks leading up. My mind had been fixed on the many steps to the cross, to the tomb, the real darkness and hopelessness in those who witnessed and followed Christ. Then the true joy and dawn of new life, the magnitude of it in the world of my faith. I feel so grateful, full and entirely blessed, so impressed upon by the depths of Easter’s reach into my weary soul. Happy Easter ❤️