Holy Week

My favorite thing about spring is Easter. The miracles: darkness, earthquakes, splitting rocks, dead people rising, curtains torn and soldiers coming to faith. The resurrection and the perfection of our faith. Transitioning from being a child and believing in the simple promise of these supernatural messages to growing in faith and understanding the texts in their historical context as well as their pointing to the salvific Christ who is Jesus.  In all its complexity and requirement of faith, it's all so beautiful to me.

Growing up, my family always had a big celebration on Easter Sunday. Jillian and I would wake up on Easter morning and look for our Easter baskets first thing. My parents always hid them in the best places. 

Then we'd get ready for church, where we had this cool tradition called the flowering of the cross. All the members of our church cut fresh flowers from our yards and went up to the empty cross and put flowers on it. It is still one of my favorite traditions, along with the although church on Easter Sunday is always hazy for me because I am terribly allergic to Easter lilies and am pretty doped up most of the day.

 After church and Sunday School we would come home and take our family Easter pictures, which was (and is, to this day) an ordeal because my dad hates sitting for pictures. Maybe it's because he's an Indian and he subconsciously believes these pictures steal his soul. He sure acts like it. He comes home from church each Sunday and changes clothes immediately, so it's pretty comedic to see our harried process to take family pictures on holidays. Sorry, Dad; it's just going to get worse as more and more people join the brood!

After the dreaded photography, Jill and I were always locked in the interior-most room of the house while our parents hid the Easter eggs. Our family egg hunt; I always won—sorry Jillian. There is a skill and technique to egg hunts, but I'm not telling you, in case we ever hunt against each other. 

Then we enjoy the rest of the day with a dinner with family, friends, neighbors—whoever is close. And we always have deviled eggs (usually for the next week) because we have dyed so many hardboiled eggs! 

Do you have any special traditions in your family? 

I was looking through a facebook album I uploaded and found some gems, and I thought I'd share with you the fashion stylings of Easters past. Enjoy... 

Emily Anderson: rockin' that Easter bonnet since 1989. 

Check out those azaleas! The Master Gardeners (aka my parent) must have been jubilant that the blooms unfurled with such perfect timing that Easter. 

More hats, yes please. 

I'm not sure what the deal was with this Easter, but I see "tags" on these Easter baskets. My mother—queen of hand-crafted awesomeness—must have been exceptionally busy. I'll have to heckle her about this. Also, that sweet upholstery on the couch behind us? Amazing. I did rock that loveseat (with slipcover) throughout undergrad, and gave it away on my last day of college. *tear*

Everyone who sees this picture asks me if the lamb is real. Yes, it was. That thing must have been crazy sedated. This picture is one of my favorites, because I think the backstory is my sister was frightened of the live animal and wouldn't sit down beside it.

Big life changes here: this picture was our first Easter pic taken at our new house. Funny story: See that house in the background with the white garage doors? That's our old house. My sister and I were so heartbroken to move, despite the fact that our new house has a sweet ass bridge and a swimming pool. In fact, I still have this recurring dream that my family has moved back to our first house and we are trying to figure out who bought our old-new house. 

Same year, different angle. More azaleas. 

If only I could tell the teenage me to SIT UP STRAIGHT...

Easter at my grandparents' home in Nebraska.

Easter in college. This Sunday, specifically,  was about 90 degrees, cloudy and humid as can be. Ick.

Easter 2010: Our first married Easter (with our very alarmed kitten)