I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life...to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. ~Henry David Thoreau
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Our Holy Easter
While I enjoy being a mediocre mother and throwing together Easter-y crafts and activities with little to no talent or advance preparation, the highlight of my Easter is, of course, Easter. The real one. Sans bunnies that somehow lay eggs.
That God sent his son, Jesus, to live and die for me, because he loves me in ways that I will never understand. And that three days after his death the Christ rose from the grave, conquering death and living forever in and for me, the most horrid of sinners. I will never understand it, but every year I strive to accept it. To grieve for my sins and his sacrifice on Friday and rejoice and celebrate his victory and my freedom on Sunday.
For years I participated on stage as an actor and a dancer (just go with it) for my church's Easter celebration. Since becoming pregnant and becoming a mother, that part of me has had to be surrendered. Sometimes I miss it--I miss being a part of the party on stage. But sometimes it's nice to just sit back and receive. My favorite part is always the baptisms. I love baptisms, but I especially love them on Easter. I love watching people becoming new on the day that God made all things new. And I love watching their friends and family rejoice with them. I sob like a baby every time, before the first person even goes under. But today there was a fresh spring of tears as I watched young children publicly proclaim their faith, realizing that someday that will be my children. Someday I will hold Benjamin and Emma's hands as they sit in that pool. Somehow the hope of that moment completely eclipsed my own baptism. And for a brief moment I had a tiny glimpse of that love that impelled God to send his Son for me.
Thank you, Jesus. He is risen!
That God sent his son, Jesus, to live and die for me, because he loves me in ways that I will never understand. And that three days after his death the Christ rose from the grave, conquering death and living forever in and for me, the most horrid of sinners. I will never understand it, but every year I strive to accept it. To grieve for my sins and his sacrifice on Friday and rejoice and celebrate his victory and my freedom on Sunday.
For years I participated on stage as an actor and a dancer (just go with it) for my church's Easter celebration. Since becoming pregnant and becoming a mother, that part of me has had to be surrendered. Sometimes I miss it--I miss being a part of the party on stage. But sometimes it's nice to just sit back and receive. My favorite part is always the baptisms. I love baptisms, but I especially love them on Easter. I love watching people becoming new on the day that God made all things new. And I love watching their friends and family rejoice with them. I sob like a baby every time, before the first person even goes under. But today there was a fresh spring of tears as I watched young children publicly proclaim their faith, realizing that someday that will be my children. Someday I will hold Benjamin and Emma's hands as they sit in that pool. Somehow the hope of that moment completely eclipsed my own baptism. And for a brief moment I had a tiny glimpse of that love that impelled God to send his Son for me.
Thank you, Jesus. He is risen!
Our Pagan Easter
Easter-y things I attempted: an egg hunt, baking special cookies, decorating eggs, and a basket of goodies.
Easter-y things that turned out well:
Easter-y things that turned out mediocre, which we're cool with because Ben's 2 1/2 and will not remember: an egg hunt, baking special cookies, decorating eggs, and a basket of goodies.
Easter-y things that turned out well:
Easter-y things that turned out mediocre, which we're cool with because Ben's 2 1/2 and will not remember: an egg hunt, baking special cookies, decorating eggs, and a basket of goodies.
Big Brother
I finished Miss E's first blanket! This isn't the real blanket--this is just a little starter blanket. I realize that doesn't make any sense, but just go with it. Anyway, I wanted to take a picture of it, so I grabbed a doll and put it in one of Emma's onesies. Ben stole "Baby Emma" and her blanket. He spent the rest of the day changing her diaper, putting her to bed, feeding her, and generally loving her. He took his nap with her. He doted on her as though she were the real deal. I made sure Ben understood that the doll was not, in fact, the real Baby Emma, which he seemed to get. But my word did he have the time of his life loving his pretend baby sister. So stinking sweet.
