Most Easters, I host a big celebration. Family and friends. The more the merrier. Easter egg hunts. Big meals. Decorations everywhere.
This year, I’m tired. And Bray’s tired. And the kids are tired. Between two demanding jobs, three baseball/softball teams, make up doctors appointments for four of the five of us, allergies, birthday parties, travel, and more, we all were craving quiet. Solitude. Peace.
And if you’ve ever met me, you might be able to wager a guess that there’s not a ton of quiet and peace when I’m planning for a crew of Easter lunch guests.
Last year, my heart was so full. We had family and some of our dearest family friends over. We lined tables up and everyone pitched it and it’s still one of my favorite Easter celebrations to date.
Oh but this year. It was glorious too.
Because of Easter weekend, the kids were out of school Friday and there were no ball practices or games (the only break in our March to May line up).
We got to the farm late Friday afternoon in time for the kids to feed cows with grandfather and me to have a glass of wine with grandmother on the porch, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite spots.
They left Saturday morning to see Bray’s sister and we had the whole farm to ourselves, quite the rare occurrence.
I stuffed Easter eggs for the hunt while the kids fished. No schedule. A little work for Bray around the farm, but it was mostly just pleasure. An even rarer occurrence that day: an afternoon nap. It was restorative.
Sunday morning, Bray and I woke up early. I’d been without a stove and oven for a week so I was determined to make a big breakfast before church. And he had eggs to hide.
The kids woke up with excitement and choruses of Happy Easter. They checked out their fun presents laid out (without Easter baskets which I’d forgotten at home). This was definitely our most varied year for Easter gifts. The eldest wanted Bluetooth earbuds which he got along with an LSU shirt (because he only has a dozen!). Little bit got ANOTHER Lego Friends set (which I can’t keep her in she completes them so quickly) and a stuffed owl. And the baby, for the weirdest gift to date, wanted items to upgrade his lemonade stand for summer. So he got a collection of banners and boards and tablecloths and gear to really kill it in the summer lemonade stand business (please come visit it this summer, they are saving for a big acquisition).
We went to the small church in the nearby town that my in-laws frequent and absolutely loved it. The kids aren’t used to smaller churches and both ministers were warm and friendly, as was the entire congregation. It was a message of hope on an incredibly gorgeous sunny morning.
After church, we drove into Lake Charles for brunch. I honestly can’t remember the last time I didn’t cook on Easter. Even before we had the kids, I loved to host Easter lunch. This was decadent.
I’ve found the most interesting twist in my life.
For years, I thought I would be called to bigger and bigger stages and more and more books. My next two books (for publication) have been shelved for the foreseeable future. I’m intentionally speaking publically less and to smaller audiences. I’m being called to the small things.
My cravings have changed.
I want to have lunch with my kids.
I’d like to go on an early evening date with my husband.
When I travel for work, I enjoy it, but am anxious to get home and “visit” with the kids in bed at bedtime. They fight for my time at night right now, and I know that won’t last forever.
I love coffee or wine with a close friend. I may be all but finished with small conversations and want to know how people really are doing and what they have facing them in their lives in this season.
Growing up, I was an obvious introvert. You could find me reading or writing or playing quietly, alone. I never spoke in public and shied away from crowds. While this career and season of life has brought me to grand stages where I “look” a lot more extroverted, I’m craving the quiet.
This Easter, we all got some.
Peace. Rest. Stillness. Joy. Sunrise and sunset. Wide open fields with chirping birds and mooing cows.
Easter always reminds us of the promise we find in the Resurrection. This Easter, we could see the promise more clearly because we took the time to be still and know.
Beautiful words, a much needed reminder that life, at a slower pace, can be rewarding. A chance to take a breath, a really deep one that fills the lungs and then to slowly exhale. I found myself smiling as I read about your weekend, and longing for a quiet of my own.