Yes, I did wear my Sunday best. My best, most favorite blue sweatpants. It was a very…restful Easter weekend, in our little neck of the woods. I’ve never been more thankful for a fenced in backyard, where I could be nature explorer, and tickle monster, and dandelion inspector, and dog cuddle-er. We were sidewalk chalk artists and cloud admirers.
The hubby took a whirl wind trip to NYC to celebrate a dear friend’s wedding, and the kids and I stayed back, and simply loved and loved the simple. And I came down with tonsillitis, as my body is so fond of doing, at least 2 out of the major Holidays during the year. Which is why I stayed in sweats and maybe showered, (at extremely late-in-the-day intervals), and thanked God for a stocked pantry which meant I didn’t have to leave the house. I had wonderful people I could call if I were in need, but I felt very lavished in the sense that because our existence was so simple, I didn’t need.
So, I didn’t wear my “Sunday best,” dress up the kids in fantastically wonderful cute outfits, nor photo-document easterly activity…or did I? At one point, we did traverse about a half mile down the road to Goodwill, because well, I LOVE Goodwill. We found a tinkertoy set which delighted all of us. I have pictures of little ones building and experimenting. I have a picture of me in my blue, fuzzy robe taken by a little one, I’m half asleep, but happy. I have a picture of love, though no dyed Easter egg in sight.
I didn’t get to church – on one of the most celebrated Christian Holidays. I wasn’t apart of the free-coffee-and-doughnut-and-cum-by yah-grace-has-come-explosion-of-excitement. And I was sad about that. But, God still came to me. Because that is what He does.
Hopefully next year, I will do all of the above that I “missed” on this year. But more importantly, as I close out my Easter, 2015, I am heartened that Jesus rose, not because we know how to look cute and procreate cute little beings, and not because we have mastered how to maintain fun traditions. He rose because He wanted to, whether we knew we needed it or not. Whether we understand that deep down, our souls want it. He rose for the times that life chugs along great, and He rose for the times when it doesn’t make much sense either.
He rose for me, with a very intentional and mindful purpose for my life, even if my most immediate existence was spent in blue sweatpants on the couch. And that’s something I find worth celebrating well after the jellybeans leave the shelves 🙂