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.
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)
(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.