Easter has always been one of my favorite holidays. I love that my Jesus (and yours, and his, and hers, and ours) loved us so much that He allowed himself to be betrayed, taunted, and brutally murdered in order for you and I to join Him in the Kingdom. I love that I can rest assured that my babies will have eternal peace when their journey here on Earth is through. I love Easter because, despite the huge bunny (ahem, that is rather creepy in my opinion) in the mall food court, it is easier to sidestep all the secular hype. Now, don't get me wrong, I love Easter baskets just as much as the next mom (and I enjoy raiding them even more!), but I love the promise the most. I love that we can incorporate a little sparkle the true meaning- a story that is so unbelievably hard to swallow, especially for children.
This is my son's third Easter, but probably the first that he'll be able to remember. On William's first Easter, we also celebrate his birth. Last year we had just celebrated his first Birthday, and this year he's a high jumping, fun loving, two year old- able to sit for more than three words of a story. It was exciting to me, as a mom, that my son was able to absorb some of the Easter story. His vocabulary is expanding, yet still far from regurgitating the promise of Easter. This is what I look forward to about next year.