We celebrated Holy Week and Easter weekend by being very, very busy.
That always happens, though, doesn’t it? If normal weeks are busy then holiday weeks will feel extra busy. I feel a temptation to chastise myself, “I’m doing this wrong. We need to slow down, simplify, take in the season.”
But I also know that if the normal routine of laundry and dinner and making it to the bus stop on time is flattening you, adding “fill eggs with plastic tchotchkes for preschool” to my to-do list isn’t exactly going to create time in my schedule.
Now I roll my eyes at the temptation to feel guilty because holidays aren’t supposed to be “busy.” When just getting your family into the van is a 78-step process, of course holidays will be hectic. Hectic is the season. So, hey! Let’s embrace the season and get on with it! These eggs aren’t going to dye themselves!
This year our Sunday was so busy I decided to do Easter baskets on Saturday.
This is completely a not-a-big-deal thing that inexplicably felt like a big deal. I had to choose between 1) breaking tradition and 2) having a really, really rushed Easter morning. I’ve never in my whole life done Easter baskets on Saturday. The Easter bunny comes on Easter Sunday and anything else is sacrilege. But oops, hold on, maybe the Easter baskets themselves are the sacrilege?
Then I decided all the over-thinking was ridiculous! As Mom, I get to decide this stuff. Saturday baskets this year it is!
The kids were ecstatic. Thomas immediately marked an extra day off his countdown-to-Easter and we never looked back.
Easter morning was, as I predicted, really busy. I had to leave for church by 8:30 and even with moving things to Saturday, I still struggled to get out the door on time. We took a rushed family photo after church before joining Tom’s family for a celebratory lunch. When I changed out of my heels I had blisters on my toes. Later that evening, Tom and I went to a cocktail party to celebrate the resurrection. I would not, could not put my shoes back on. I had rolled my eyes at David wearing neon shoes on Easter Sunday, but my blistered toes made them look like the smart option.
I’m so grateful for Easter. Here we are — our fingers are still blue with dye, and my kid didn’t even button his shirt, and wow those high tops sure make a statement in our Easter photo! Here we are with our skin-and-soul-deep imperfections, to proclaim that Jesus lived, he died, and he rose again. Hallelujah! He is risen!