We are all over our sicknesses, minus a sniffle or a cough here and there. Hallelujah! And thanks everyone for your concern. :)
{My little man ready for church on Easter Sunday}
Our Easter ended up being pretty great, but if I'm being honest (and I am) it didn't start out too well. I woke up with left over feelings of sadness, frustration, and anger from a silly conversation with Collin the night before. He said something that was not at all intended to hurt my feelings and he even apologized 100 times (even though he didn't need to) before bed, but I was still upset. And then I woke up feeling extra sad because we wouldn't be with family eating scalloped potatoes (or funeral potatoes, depending on if it would be a Smith or a Martin Easter), and we wouldn't be hunting for eggs, doing the egg-carton Easter activity, or attending church with our parents. And to top it all off, I had completely dropped the ball and there was no visit from The Easter Bunny, there were no new white shirts and ties for my boys to wear to church, there were no eggs dyed, no jelly beans delivered, and I was bummed.
We got ready for church and walked to church in 100% silence. Real mature, I know. We got to church and in walked all of the little children in perfectly pastel ensembles that I knew had been purchased just for this day. And not only was Nolan not festively dressed, he was also being an absolute rascal complete with temper tantrums, spitting, and crawling away from Dad and Mom at record speeds. Soon enough I had had it, so I took the walk of shame down that never-ending isle at church, holding my squirmy sweetheart, neither of us looking our best. I put Nolan in his stroller, corked him with a bottle, covered him with a blanket and that's all it took. He was sound asleep in a matter of seconds and for the first time all day I was able to sit, think, and ponder about this holiday we call Easter.
My thoughts started out focusing on my hardheartedness towards my husband, the least hardhearted person I know. Then they wandered into the realm of The Easter Bunny and his skipping over our house. And they ended up on me missing the opportunity to color coordinate my family's church-going outfits. This whole entire thought process took all of 30 seconds, and then I realized there was somebody standing at the front of the chapel talking about Easter. So I tuned in.
They were talking about the real meaning of Easter. That blessed day when Jesus Christ was risen, Resurrected, and alive yet again. He had brought with Him a promise of hope, of eternal happiness, of reunions and of life. And that's when I realized that I hadn't really missed Easter after all. There was still time.
I could still have the Easter my Savior would have preferred me to have in the first place. An Easter void of anger towards my husband. An Easter despite what we were or were not wearing. An Easter even without colorful eggs, candy, and marshmallow chicks. My own personal Easter of hope, happiness, and reunions. After the meeting ended, I waited for Collin to walk down that same isle Nolan and I had just traced, and as he approached me, we had a reunion. I apologized, he hugged me, and our marriage had some what of its own mini-resurrection. We spent the rest of the day together learning about Jesus Christ and what His life, death, and Resurrection means to us.
We went home after church to prepare our part of the dinner we'd be sharing with friends, and at Nolan's bedtime we left our house to join fellow family-less friends for an Easter dinner. We knew it was a risk taking Nolan out at his bedtime, but it was a risk worth taking. We slipped him into his most Easter-ish pajamas, threw on his trusty sock monkey hat, and had ourselves an enjoyable evening with good food, good friends, and good memories. And Nolan was well-behaved: a direct blessing from heaven.
{Nolan waiting at the bus stop, on our way to Easter dinner}
This Easter was the least traditional Easter I've ever had. But perhaps it was the Easter I learned the most. Nothing can, nor ever will replace a holiday with family, but I'm so grateful for good friends, and life lessons learned that teach me things I may not have learned when in my comfort zone of traditions and scalloped potatoes.
I hope you all had a great Easter as well. I know my Savior, Jesus Christ lives, and I'm grateful for the miracle that that is, and for what it means in my life. That I can try again each day, to make every day better than the day before.
Here's to a great Monday.
{My little man ready for church on Easter Sunday}
Our Easter ended up being pretty great, but if I'm being honest (and I am) it didn't start out too well. I woke up with left over feelings of sadness, frustration, and anger from a silly conversation with Collin the night before. He said something that was not at all intended to hurt my feelings and he even apologized 100 times (even though he didn't need to) before bed, but I was still upset. And then I woke up feeling extra sad because we wouldn't be with family eating scalloped potatoes (or funeral potatoes, depending on if it would be a Smith or a Martin Easter), and we wouldn't be hunting for eggs, doing the egg-carton Easter activity, or attending church with our parents. And to top it all off, I had completely dropped the ball and there was no visit from The Easter Bunny, there were no new white shirts and ties for my boys to wear to church, there were no eggs dyed, no jelly beans delivered, and I was bummed.
We got ready for church and walked to church in 100% silence. Real mature, I know. We got to church and in walked all of the little children in perfectly pastel ensembles that I knew had been purchased just for this day. And not only was Nolan not festively dressed, he was also being an absolute rascal complete with temper tantrums, spitting, and crawling away from Dad and Mom at record speeds. Soon enough I had had it, so I took the walk of shame down that never-ending isle at church, holding my squirmy sweetheart, neither of us looking our best. I put Nolan in his stroller, corked him with a bottle, covered him with a blanket and that's all it took. He was sound asleep in a matter of seconds and for the first time all day I was able to sit, think, and ponder about this holiday we call Easter.
My thoughts started out focusing on my hardheartedness towards my husband, the least hardhearted person I know. Then they wandered into the realm of The Easter Bunny and his skipping over our house. And they ended up on me missing the opportunity to color coordinate my family's church-going outfits. This whole entire thought process took all of 30 seconds, and then I realized there was somebody standing at the front of the chapel talking about Easter. So I tuned in.
They were talking about the real meaning of Easter. That blessed day when Jesus Christ was risen, Resurrected, and alive yet again. He had brought with Him a promise of hope, of eternal happiness, of reunions and of life. And that's when I realized that I hadn't really missed Easter after all. There was still time.
I could still have the Easter my Savior would have preferred me to have in the first place. An Easter void of anger towards my husband. An Easter despite what we were or were not wearing. An Easter even without colorful eggs, candy, and marshmallow chicks. My own personal Easter of hope, happiness, and reunions. After the meeting ended, I waited for Collin to walk down that same isle Nolan and I had just traced, and as he approached me, we had a reunion. I apologized, he hugged me, and our marriage had some what of its own mini-resurrection. We spent the rest of the day together learning about Jesus Christ and what His life, death, and Resurrection means to us.
We went home after church to prepare our part of the dinner we'd be sharing with friends, and at Nolan's bedtime we left our house to join fellow family-less friends for an Easter dinner. We knew it was a risk taking Nolan out at his bedtime, but it was a risk worth taking. We slipped him into his most Easter-ish pajamas, threw on his trusty sock monkey hat, and had ourselves an enjoyable evening with good food, good friends, and good memories. And Nolan was well-behaved: a direct blessing from heaven.
{Nolan waiting at the bus stop, on our way to Easter dinner}
This Easter was the least traditional Easter I've ever had. But perhaps it was the Easter I learned the most. Nothing can, nor ever will replace a holiday with family, but I'm so grateful for good friends, and life lessons learned that teach me things I may not have learned when in my comfort zone of traditions and scalloped potatoes.
I hope you all had a great Easter as well. I know my Savior, Jesus Christ lives, and I'm grateful for the miracle that that is, and for what it means in my life. That I can try again each day, to make every day better than the day before.
Here's to a great Monday.
Happy Monday!
