This Holy Week has been a time of reflecting with my tribe.
Each day as we've read accounts of what happened on those same days anciently, we've filled our "Easter baskets" with tokens of remembrance: a leaf for Palm Sunday (which Claire holds and waves back and forth saying, "Hosanna! Hosanna!");
a temple picture that reminds us of Jesus teaching us to prize what is sacred; the piece of red cloth to remind us that He taught about the second coming during that last week---testifying that this wasn't the end, that His work spanned all time, and that He would eventually come again clothed in red; a coin because Judas agreed to betray Christ for 30 pieces of silver; a sacrament cup to remember the atonement and that it is personal; a nail to remind us of that first Good Friday and the crucifixion;
a little Book of Mormon to remind us that, when in the spirit world, Christ organized missionary efforts so that everyone could share joy; and finally, a blossom for the resurrection, symbolizing that life returns, that death holds no eternal finality---and that ALL sorrow and ALL of the ways we feel broken are bound up and healed in Him.
(Easter baskets!)
I know Jesus lives.
No words can adequately articulate the feelings of my heart today, but I am so very grateful.
(the boys in their Easter ties from their baskets -- and I LOVE! Isaiah's long hair)
(the girls and I sporting matching sandals -- Mia has wanted some ever since I got mine a couple of years ago, so the girls got them in their baskets)
Christ's light, His example, and His love make all the difference, every day, for me. 
(Egg dyeing)
(Homemade carrot cake with vanilla bean ice cream)
I am grateful for the peace that only He can give.
(the flowering cherry in my front yard is killing it right now)
He is my greatest gift.
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