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What Easter Means To Me: How It’s Different & What I’m Serving
Mar 31, 2024
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I’ll host Easter again this year. What I mean—in the earthly sense—is that I’ve arranged a humble tablescape for eleven people I love. I’ve asked my best friend to bring the brisket, my husband to make a coleslaw, and my mom to whip up a delicious berry salad for dessert. I’ve got warm, glazed carrots in the oven, lobster deviled eggs on the counter, and a fresh citrus salad that needs tossing. I’ve cleaned every nook and cranny of my home in anticipation. I’ve sourced all kinds of goodies for the children’s egg hunt and their Easter baskets and I’ve set aside a creative station for arts and crafts. But it hasn’t always been this way…
I used to think that if I bought into a commercialized standard of Easter consumerism, I would be minimizing who Easter is certainly about. Now, I’m not so sure. I think it’s more of a heart issue for me. If I’m caught up in buying more stuff or running myself ragged planning activities because I feel like I should, then I’m missing the point. I’m idolizing my materialized celebration instead of the reason for it all, and the holiday is incorrectly glorified in my home.
But, what if I’m weaving the little bunnies and the beautiful crosses together, the worship music with the egg-dyeing? Maybe that’s okay, maybe it’s growth. In the hopes that I can lead my daughters to a multi-dimensional faith expression—both tangible and intellectualized—then maybe my heart is in the right place after all. So, for the past few years, Easter has meant remembering Jesus’s resurrection with all parts of me—my brain and my body included. I can break bread with friends and family in laughter and I can pray thoughts of gratitude in secret. And the Lord would be present in both.
