Easter

It's early Easter morning and the house is quiet.  Jason has taken the one healthy child to church, and the others are sleeping.

So as I wait for them to wake and cry out for me, I'm left to contemplate the dawn of springtime outside and the meaning of the resurrection.

And can it be that I should gain

An interest in the Savior's blood?

Does whatever happened to this Jesus thousands of years ago have relevance for me?  Does it make a difference when my kids are sick or when I have moving boxes stacked to the ceiling?

Died He for me, who caused His pain?

For me, who Him to death pursued?

It does when I know my sin.  

Without Christ I am desperately sick, without God and without hope.  So grievous is any offense against an infinitely holy and worthy God, that it demands horrifying retribution.  

Once we glimpse an idea of God's holiness, we can only cry in despair with Isaiah, "Woe is me, for I am ruined!"  

God's right and just wrath is an abyss that we must all look into--if not now, later.  Friend blog reader, I plead with you to gaze now on that wrath poured out on Christ.  See the grotesque agony, the sinless blood running down, the complete abandonment by man and God.  

These are the wages of sin.

Do not wait to bear them yourself when God has provided the Substitute.  

Amazing love! How can it be

That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

Take hold of the Savior, whose mercy is unfathomable, and whose power over the grave is cause for rejoicing today!

Christ is risen from the dead,

Trampling over death by death

O, death, where is your sting?

O, hell, where is your victory?

O, church, come stand in the light:

Our God is not dead,

He's alive! He's alive!

And Can It Be That I Should Gain, Charles Wesley

Christ is Risen, Matt Maher

Holy cow

Caleb climbed up to the bar and showed interest in the markers Lizzy had out.  He was delighted when I gave him a dump truck coloring book to use, but Lizzy protested, saying that Caleb couldn't be trusted with markers.


"He's fine," I said.  "Look how happy he is with his truck book."  Then I went in the other room to continue packing, until a moment of suspicious silence alerted me to trouble.

Ok, Lizzy.  I stand corrected.

Packing begins

Spring is finally here--despite the fact that it was 18 degrees this morning and all the newly-bloomed daffodils are bent over in a posture of severe depression.

Our daffodils are smart though--we apparently live in a cold pocket and the ones in our yard have yet to bloom.

I prefer to stay under my warm blanket too.

The geese are bravely (and noisily) flying north at last:

So happily, I've recovered from my stomachache, after nearly a week of moping around and forgetting what food tastes like.


(I remember now.  It's delicious.)

Our new house has running water and some electricity, appliances sitting in the middle of the floor, and forms ready to receive concrete if it ever gets warm enough to pour it.

We may be within a few weeks of moving, and as such, have started packing (much easier when you can get off the couch).


At the end of last week we finished boxing up the garage.


Wow.


10 years worth of putting off decisions about things does tend to pile up.

I'm glad to have that cold task finished now that the weather has reverted to January.

Jason even tackled several huge boxes of cords and electronics that all needed to be sorted through.  Some was plain trash, some was trash that would kill us all if we put it in a landfill, some was useable if someone wants it, and a few things were to keep.


Needless to say, the bedroom was covered in his sorting piles, with every manner of small electronic accessory scattered about, so much that Caleb asked if Daddy was making a robot.

Thankfully, Daddy did not inadvertently create robotic life, and we have a plan for all the hazardous heavy metals (you're welcome).

Much of this packing progress was made possible by Grandma, who kept the kids overnight for a sleepover party last week.


They weren't so heartbroken to leave me that they didn't sit on the side of the road for half an hour waiting for Grandma to arrive.

They had a fun time and I got the garage packed, so I suppose that's a win for everybody.

Wordless Wednesday

Spring break

Once again I'm so glad that we homeschool, for the reason that we set our own schedule.  We're on spring break for four whole weeks and I'm so relieved.  The house is hurtling toward completion and I've been there every day.


I did, however, forget that every year over spring break we get sick.


At the moment it's me with a stomachache.  But again--so grateful I have kids big enough to serve their siblings peanut butter and jelly while I groan on the couch.  Such a relief from the days of relentlessly demanding little ones to whom it doesn't matter how awful you feel.


The plumber was working yesterday, so I think we have running water now.  Here's hoping I'm up and at 'em in time to pack, because it looks like a real house now.

Here comes trouble

The end of winter

We went from this:

to this:

in two days.  

60 degrees never feels so good as in early March--especially when you're still reeling from record cold and a couple feet of snow.

Since I could *see* the road at last, I forewent my usual treadmill jog and took a run outside.  (In shorts and a t-shirt!  Last time I ran outside I wore a hat and mittens!)

It was glorious.  The robins have suddenly descended upon us en masse, all skinny and frantically busy pulling up worms.  The trees were ringing with birdsong and the streams along the road were burbling and swollen, making beautiful music.  The sun was warm on my back.

Every season tells of the glory of God, to be sure.  The fresh snow reminds us that though our sins were as scarlet, He washes us whiter than snow.

But spring just seems to shout good news, doesn't it?  New life bursts forth--like Jesus from the tomb on Easter.  The rushing streams wash away all the muck and mess and memory of winter, just as He washes away our sin and will one day wash away all memory of our sorrow.  Birds sing above, reminding us of the ever-praising angels around the throne.  Light dawns earlier each day, reminding us that the one Light is returning.

C. S. Lewis understood this, which is why he describes heaven in The Last Battle as being in springtime:  

They stood on grass, the deep blue sky was overhead, and the air which blew gently on their faces was that of a day in early summer...  

Their hearts leaped and a wild hope rose within them.       

"There was a real railway accident," said Aslan softly...  "The term is over:  the holidays have begun."

"Arise, my darling, my beautiful one,

And come along.

For behold, the winter is past,

The rain is over and gone."

~Song of Solomon 2:10-11