26 May, 2011

Celebrating an Old Holiday in New Ways

No excuses, but I didn't get to post this when I wanted....
Easter... Since I can remember, that word didn't have zing or excitement associated with it. Granted, I have always understood what Easter is truly about, and have truly believed and rested my hope on all that it stands for, but as a holiday, it just wasn't anything that got me jumping. I can't even remember anything we did for Easter as a child or in the last four years for that matter. I know we always went to church, and usually ate a meal, but that is all I can remember.
Thanksgiving... Now that is a holiday that I get excited about. Turkey, family and the avoidance of the commercialism that most other holidays have been tainted by. I've  learned to embrace Thanksgiving and it's purity and simplicity. The result is a fabulous time spent with my dear family surrounded by good food and even greater conversation, and a sense of guilt. As I began claiming Thanksgiving as my mantra or "my holiday" I found that for some reason I also began feeling guilty around Easter. What is it that Thanksgiving and Christmas have that Easter doesn't? Why wasn't I excited to celebrate to celebrate Easter?
This year, I was determined to make Easter important. I began by looking up ways and ideas for celebrating Easter that would be significant. Scoured the internet for ideas about how to get the kids involved, and how to make each thing we did relate back to what Easter is really about. I came up with a few ideas and found that I was suddenly excited about Easter. What was different? During my search for ideas, I read on someone's blog and they commented on how we should put as much energy and time into Easter as we do Christmas. There was my answer. It wasn't about time, it was about investment. I loved Thanksgiving because I had an investment in it. I start thinking about Thanksgiving in December. Yes, a month hasn't even passed before I am longing to be sitting around the table, stuffed with cranberries turkey and my absolute favorite, mashed potatoes and gravy. I am weird, long before school starts, I start thinking about the menu, what recipes I haven't tried and when is it to early to call my aunt (we go to my aunt's for Thanksgiving every year). I am excited about Thanksgiving because I put effort and forethought into Thanksgiving.  And so with Easter, I found that the more forethought and effort I put into Easter, the more excited I got. This is the first year that I felt like I truly celebrated Easter.
It is due to my excitement that I must share the ways we celebrated Easter. This year was a tester year. We tried multiple ideas out to see what worked for us. In the end, I was pleasantly surprised, and to my delight, I have already started thinking about next year.
Here is the list of what we did, and how we felt they worked for us ( two adults, a 4yr old, 2 yr old and infant).
1.  Gift Baskets for the neighbors.
Since Easter is about celebrating the gift of life, I thought that sharing that gift with other people would be an important part of celebrating. So, we collected different items and made gift baskets to give to some of our neighbors. This years baskets included: a candle to represent the Christ's light shining in us, a journal that said hope, to remind us of the hope we have in Christ, a potted flower to represent new life, dyed eggs that had phrases of hope and joy on them, a verse about our joy in Christ and chocolates.
I loved the gift baskets, and we will do them every year. It was a wonderful way to talk about Easter and teach my kids not only about the hope we have, but that we are called to share our hope with those around us. I will never forget sitting with my family praying over each basket as we made them, explaining how each item represented something significant. Each step in the process was significant from having my 4 year old son chose the verse cards and gluing them them together to walking to each neighbor after we prayed for them. We will make a few changes next year. First, we will pass them out sooner so that we have enough time to invite them to the Easter Hunt that our church puts on. Second, we will make our own chocolates. I want to make chocolate crosses so I can talk about how we are molded into the image of Christ.


2. Resurrection rolls
For breakfast Easter morning, we made resurrection rolls. Although sticky and delicious, I did not feel that the kids found it to be meaningful. I am hoping to try the resurrection cookies next year instead. (For recipe, see: http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/resurrection-rolls/Detail.aspx and http://www.kintera.org/atf/cf/%7B8E975F2E-4C1C-4315-AAFF-34A97EB367B5%7D/Resurrection_Cookies.pdf)


3. Passover Meal
I was the most excited about the passover style meal. Oddly enough, this was the biggest flop. I planned a meal with lamb, charoset, matzos, bitter herbs, salt water and grape juice so that I could talk about the sacrifice that Christ made for us. What I found was that hungry kids want to eat and that the time spent explaining the significants was lost in the hustle and bustle of the meal. Though I will do lamb every year (I will use any excuse to eat lamb), I will not incorporate a passover meal into our Easter. Next year I plan to do a simple communion with the family.

4. Foot washing
I am still amazed at how meaningful this experience was. My children are still asking to do it again. In our house, the most common words I hear are : me, mine, and I'm first. I have truly struggled with how to teach my children what it means to serve one another.


When I saw the idea for foot washing it seemed natural for me. It was probably because foot washing was the gift I gave to my husband the night we were married (I had towels made and my first act as his wife was washing his feet as a symbol of my love and desire to serve him in love.) But for some reason, I put it on the back of my list, thinking, yeah if we get to it. As our evening closed, my husband reminded me of the foot washing and so began a memory to last forever. We  brought out a bowl, pitcher and lots of towels one of which was the towel I had made for my husband. We gathered around, and my husband and I explained how Christ came not to be served but to serve, how He died for as as an act of love and service and how He calls us to serve one another. I also explained that the bible says that the "first shall be last", that part of serving is letting others go first. My "I'm first" son's eye's lit up. He proceeded to list the order that we should wash each other's feet in, with him being last. Without knowing it, I had finally gotten through to my son that being first isn't always important. I will never forget those moments of washing each other's feet. I can still see my son and daughter's small hands carefully washing my feet, pouring water and taking turns drying. This will be our family's tradition for years to come. Serving in love.

Next Easter I am looking forward to another list of things to try, some old, some new but each one a chance to experience an old holiday in new ways.


If you are looking for more creative ways to celebrate Easter, I found the following blog wonderful and the inspiration of many if not all of the ways we celebrated this year:  http://www.aholyexperience.com/

05 May, 2011

What's a Mom to Do?

Ahhh, Thursdays. The day of the week that haunts me. Preparation is futile, I seem to always sink on Thursdays. Today was no exception. Although the day started out with something amazing and out of the ordinary, a shower, moments of calm were no where to be found. Ok, so the shower was nice. I don't get those in the morning very often, and my husband even made breakfast which helped me get all three of the kids out of the house and to school early. Yahooo! Don't remember the last time I got to school when I wanted to. But that was the beginning of the end. After getting all three kids out of the car, and the stroller mostly loaded up for a morning of activities, I go to bible study at the church where my son's school meets, I realized I was missing one very vital piece of the puzzle- the diaper bag. Quickly I threw the kids back in the car, listened to the annoying kids music over my daughter's screaming and raced back home, knowing that I wouldn't be able to join my son for the parent participation focus of the morning. Oh, well. Deep breaths and I moved on.
The rest of my morning went as Thursday mornings go, and I left the school, cramming four cranky, hot and hungry people into my swaggered wagon past the usual lunch and nap time. As I rushed home, my mind went over the usual options... feed the baby first or the kids first? What to eat? Do I have any milk left? Who should I get out of the car first? (yes, it can require strategic planning depending on who is screaming, who has to pee and who is just annoying me the most.). As I struggle getting three writhing body's into the house without letting the 90 degree weather in, I unloaded a morning's worth of crap in my entry way. And there the crap stayed. Somehow I made a meal while holding a crying baby, fed four people and survived lunch without crying. The kitchen and dining room did not survive.
As if just getting four people fed wasn't enough, I then had to get two of them to bed. One of which is a little Houdini. We have to sew here Pj's shut just to keep her from pooping and smearing it all over the walls. Today, I thought I would see if we could get away with not sewing her. Nope! Thankfully, right after I got the baby to sleep, I caught my daughter just as she was taking off her diaper to investigate her paint prospects. Ahhh, crisis averted.
Now, on to my to do list... water garden, do dishes, sew patch on to canvas... oh wait, that is a lot more than I had bargained for.... I now have a blister on my finger from cramming a large needle through stubborn fabric. Thankfully, I know where that needle is, unlike the one I lost in my daughter's room when I sewed her pj's up... not sure what to do with that one.
By this time, my son has asked me for a snack about 75 times, has yelled, sang and stomped next to his sleeping sister's room and strewn toys across the house. My nerves are becoming more and more frazzled. The girls both wake up crying. My two-year old proceeds to cry like I am jamming bamboo down her fingernails for the next 20 minutes. As I continue to guide the stubborn needle in and out of the even more stiff fabric, I assess whether or not the popsicle in my daughter's hand is dripping on the furniture, hoping her brother will just leave her alone so I don't have to hear her squeal like a pig being slaughtered again.
Deep breath, and now to make dinner. Thankfully I have a gift for making something out of nothing, and somehow pull together a delicious stir fry from my empty pantry. Just as my wonderful composition was coming together, my little world came to a grinding halt. There on the wall of my son's room was his artistic rendition of the stairway to heaven. I'd like to say my heart sank in my chest, but truthfully, by that time my heart was numb from a day of being barraged by the constant pokes and pricks of three kids. The numbness quickly wore off as my son proceeded to show me the rest of his artistic escapade. To the sound of my wonderful dinner burning, I watched as my son showed me his swirls, lines and sketches in bold black crayon on the walls, growth chart, bed, dresser, door, and toy chest. Deep breath, count to 10.  There was my four year old with a half smile on his face, pride oozing out as he showed me all that he had done.What is a mom to do?
The answer, thanks to a little help from my dad, my son is now sleeping on the floor. All that is left in his room is his dresser and the crib for his sister. And now here I sit. A table covered in spaghetti sauce from last night, beans from lunch and noodles from dinner. Three counters full of dishes, books, toys from my son's room and trash from the day. A floor covered in clothes, blankets, stuffed animals, more books, diaper bags, car seat, and whatever else I had to drag out of my son's room. A coffee table full of books, old diapers, broken diapers, toys and my sewing project. Here I sit, one frazzled, tired but alive mama. What's a mom to do?