Failing at EasterI try not to overdo the Easter basket thing. For me, Easter is about the Resurrection of Christ, and I never wanted to dilute that for my kids with the Easter Bunny or concerns about all the loot in their baskets. I don't do nothing at all though: we have small tins I bought at the dollar store years ago that I fill with home made candy.
This year the peanut butter eggs went off well, but I somehow broke the chocolate making the coconut haystacks. At 9:15 last night, as I was blearily getting in some before bed reading, I looked at The Dungeon Master and said: "I forgot to hard boil and dye eggs." He had a one word response. "Don't."
Then , I get up in the morning and put the peanut butter eggs in the tins. I pull the tray of chocolate bunnies out of the freezer and...they don't want to come out. I manage to pop out enough for the kids' tins, but only by slamming the try on the counter loudly enough to wake them all. I let my husband dig his out.
At this point, I was 100% sure I had failed at Easter.
(At this point, I'm sure even those readers who don't share my faith will say...."Wha.....? There are worse failures!")
I get to church, work for the first service in the nursery,and then meet my family for the service. All of them, together, with the teens not permitted to go sit with their friends. Now, I am usually a contemporary service girl, but on Easter I like the traditional service. We have an amazing choir, and the service always ends with Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus", complete with guest musicians. As we stood at the beginning of the service and began singing "Christ the Lord is Risen Today", it came to me. I can NOT fail at Easter. No human can. Isn't that what Jesus died for? Because we are weak, imperfect humans? In the greater scheme of things, having to eat your coconut haystacks with a spoon means nothing in light of all Jesus has done for us, and asked us to do for our neighbors. That's not what it's about.
I feel truly refreshed this morning. I worked more, came home, and enjoyed the lovely coffee my loving husband had lovingly made me. I've boiled some eggs but will not bother dying them. I'll make devilled eggs that only Supergirl and I will eat. I will make a delicious uncured ham, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. But I will know that if something gets burnt or over salted or the eggs stick to the shells when I peel them, it won't matter. That's not what Easter is about.