One of my favorite things about Easter in Russia is that people greet each other with "Iisus Voskres!" Jesus is risen! With which the other person responds "Voistine Voskres!" Truly, He has risen!
This is, of course, a reality that we would do well to remember daily but as we were reading our Bible, my mommy-heart was hoping that the eggs, candy and bunnies would not overshadow the fact that "Love crucified arose". All week long I fought the urge to remind the children of what was important. Those of you also along on this CM voyage know how detrimental a giving of answers, suggestions, and constant reminders (ie nagging) can be. I then remembered Teri Maxwell's encouragement to mothers to pray very specifically for their children.
This morning, the boys awoke at 6am with a shout "Jesus has risen! Oh, let's pray!" and, with all the faith of a child, they thanked God for Christ's resurrection before padding off down the stairs. My heart joyfully sang in response, "Truly, He has risen!"
Jack Neiner peeling onion skins to color eggs with.
We dyed eggs using yellow and red onion peels and beets. I love the natural colors. We also made the Russian eggs in the first picture with wraps that my mother-in-law had brought.
I had thought this picture lost in one of our many moves but was ecstatic to find it a few days ago. Our birthday falls on Easter this year and it is a great joy to know that Michele is my sister in the deepest sense as well as flesh and blood.
I reread the poem she sent me last year:
Philosophers have measured mountains
Fathomed the depths of seas, of states, and kings,
Walked with a staff to heaven, and traced fountains:
But there are two vast, spacious things,
The which to measure it doth more behove:
Yet few there are that sound themn; Sin and Love.
Who would know Sin, let him repair
Unto Mount Olivet; there shall he see
A man so wrung with pains, that all his hair,
His skin, His garments bloody be.
Sin is that press and vice, which forceth pain
To hunt his cruel food through ev'ry vein.
Who knows not Love, kept him assay
And taste that juice, which on the cross a pike
Did set again abroach; then let him say
If ever he did taste the like.
Love is that liquor sweet and most divine,
Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.
George Herbert (1593-1633)