{speckled eggs}
There's so much hope in new beginnings. Fresh starts and full promises are like speckled eggs. Blemishes of before stained clean with color vivid and alive for trying again. Easter is that hope. That rising promise of a life fulfilled for the place was vacant. Death has no sting. Encouraged is a beautifully delinquent understatement at the thought of His resurrection. Like one massive pep rally, spring trumpets this earth shattering history forward. Fermented in the hearts of all who call out His name, we shout victorious with gusto for the claim He has made on our lives. Yes, it's something to get fantastic about. It's something worthy of toes tapping and tears streaming. And by all means, celebrating.
Celebrating is exactly what you make it. I like to think the best kind of celebrating is the one deemed not too overly-planned with dotted i's and double crossed t's, and yet not too ad hoc in fervor. The kind where intentional stretches out only to flop down on a big couch of happy with cushions fluffed for enjoying the breathes & beats of those best huddled around you. Laughter should be present. Yummy food and clanking cups filled with joyous, hearty drinks. Cool & hot. Blessings to the touch like the trace-by-number coloring sheets too. Available is such a great word when it comes to celebrating Christ.
Our family found a pace so eloquently precious when it came to this Easter weekend. Time slowed and to-do lists halted. Sunshine showed off and sweet breezes billowed in a pronounced peace and heightened spirit. The boys are growing. Older and longer and completely proficient at all things egg coloring. They helped with desserts and stifled rising yeast mounds for Easter egg braided bread. A quick one-two punch and they were out the door. Dough lying limp in my hand was the reminder of my place in their makings.
I thought it fitting to shower this post with clustered memories from these 2 days of Easter joy. I wanted the images to be just as important if not more than my letters-turned-words. Enjoy our weekend story book:
The weekend was filled with forever keepsakes. No elaborate dress codes or napkins placed just so. But worship real for the one who marks our hearts His. The boys get it. And I love that they embrace it. Him. His heart for this world. They are catching onto what glory really means. The grit of giving and the gentleness in loving. It was such a treat to watch them with their little cousin, Colton. Hiding eggs and pulling wagons too. Nana and Papaw's house was a Sunday full of 4 wheelers and some of the precious faces we love. Speckled were the sights of our savior through and through. With smiles and outstretched arms, we soaked up family. As the Easter evening cradled into our arms with whispers pink & hot sinking orange, I thanked God for my life anew to celebrate once more. Hallelujah, He is risen.