Making a play-dough mountain with the Livesay lards.
Watching the Jesus Storybook Bible min-movie about the cross.
Then we had the sweetest Good Friday service. Beautiful.
After church we painted our mountains. Big. Fat. Mess.
Aint nobody gonna steal the Hendrick boy's Jesus. Uh-uh. No way.
Saturday we dyed
our hands some eggs.
And there are my granny hands. You're welcome.
Yes. Another big fat mess. We went to church today with dyed hands.
I love this boy.
Sunday Morning. Before the kids woke up I rolled the tomb away.
I also threw our pipe cleaner Jesus in the trash.
It always feels weird to trash Jesus.
I discard him while whispering, "Sorry. Sorry."
Sunday sunrise service.
Three out of the six of us attended.
Three of us think getting up before the sun gets up is normal.
Three of us think getting up before the sun is crazy talk.
Aw. Yes. Church at a normal time of day.
So much candy. Delirious. They were downright delirious.
Beth and some of the Livesay girls before they went into a sugar coma.
Such a beautiful Easter weekend. So many moments I was overwhelmed by how unworthy I am to have this life, to mother these boys, to be married to this man, to have such deep down friends, mentors, family, forgiveness, grace, mercy, hope, salvation, the cross, and heaven.
Not because I'm good enough, or try hard enough, or pray enough or read my Bible enough or behave enough, or believe enough, or trust God enough. Grace. It's the only thing in which I can boast.
This wretch is incredibly thankful.