Last weekend was so nice. On Saturday we woke up to a beautiful spring day–one of our first–and our kids spent the next eight hours (for real) outside with the neighborhood gang. We finally called them in at dusk to color eggs. I find it curious that my kids still get so excited about coloring easter eggs–even my thirteen-year old. Do yours? I mean, really. You dunk an egg in a cup and it comes out pink. What’s the biggie? I don’t know. But they love it. And I love that they still love it.
When he came running through the door from the park to find it was time for egg-coloring, Ethan shouted to no one in particular: “Easter feels GOOD!”
Meg couldn’t agree more.
Rache tries to mask her enthusiasm for egg coloring, but do not be deceived; she totally digs it.
The kids had fun hunting for their eggs and baskets before church the next morning. We had a lovely Easter Sabbath, and even got to hear Rachael and Derrick give talks. The music was gorgeous, the message inspiring, and everyone seemed to glow just a bit more than usual. I love love love church on Easter Sunday. You?
The girls were good sports about no Easter dresses this year (see last post for reason why.) Instead, they put together their own outfits from clothes they had and the results were smashing, I’d say. (And yes, these are the closest I have to a family Easter photo. Derrick and Ethan left early for church while the girls were still primping, and I didn’t even think to snap one of all of us together afterward. Oopsie.)
We came home to a traditional ham dinner and lots of lazing around afterward. As if on cue to commence Easter Season, the next morning brought us spring-in-full-swing:
It’s not exactly lush, but it’s our neighborhood, and we love it.
Our hometown, and we love it.
Our trees, our sunshine, our Sunday, our simple, our quiet, our peace, our faith, our gratitude, our Easter.
We love it.