He is not trapped in there forever...

Easter might be one of my favorite holidays. First, I love the time of year...spring. Even in Arizona, a place where the only seasons are hot, hotter, hottest, and not quite so hot. The smell of orange blossoms is in the air (and it's our first year with our own citrus in our backyard), trees are starting to blossom, leaves are returning. I walk outside and just want to breathe it all in.

Second, it brings back so many wonderful memories of my study abroad experience in Israel. Unbelievably that was 15 years ago, but so many of the sights and experiences are still fresh in my mind. And that is saying a lot considering how much this mind does NOT remember these days. This year was especially nice because my parents just got back from a 10 day trip to Israel. So talking to them about the experience made my memories even more vivid.

And third, I cannot think of anything better to celebrate than the resurrection and atonement of Jesus Christ. I love Christmas and telling my kids about the birth of the Savior. But there is nothing like telling my kids about Gethsemane, Calvary, and the empty garden tomb.

A few weeks ago for FHE I got out some of the pictures that depict the last week of Christ's life and told my children the Easter story. Andrew, who sometimes has a hard time sitting still, was absolutely motionless. Totally entranced. After the closing prayer, he came over and asked if we could look at the pictures again tomorrow.

The next Saturday we had the annual Garner easter egg hunt at John's parents' house. My mother-in-law did a similar thing with the pictures and the Easter story. Again, Andrew was mesmerized and just sat there, listening to every word. And he even piped up and volunteered some information about the "big rock."

On Easter Sunday I had some of John's family over for dinner--Dave and Kristine and their five kids, Julie, and John's parents. I had prepared a little Easter lesson (you have probably heard of and/or done it) using 12 plastic eggs. Each egg had a scripture describing something that had happened the last week of Christ's life and something that symbolized the event. For example, three dimes were in the egg with the scripture telling about Judas' betrayal.

The eggs were in an egg carton and I gave Andrew the job of making sure everybody got an egg. We started with number one and went around the room, looking at what was in the egg and reading the scripture. My niece helped her 4-year-old sister and 5-year-old brother read their scriptures. Andrew was keeping close tabs on what number egg we were on and reminded me which number was next.

Finally we got to number 10...Andrew's egg. He opened it up and found a piece of white material and a round, flat rock (that he had helped me find in the backyard earlier that afternoon). John offered to help him read the scripture, but he insisted that he would "read it myself." He turned the paper so the words were not upside down, held the paper up at eye-level, and then he proceeded to "read" and it went something like this:

"Jesus had on a white cloth and there was a big rock in front and then an angel came and moved the big rock so Jesus wouldn't be trapped in there forever."

I wish I could remember more in detail what he said because he went on and on "reading" the whole time. And he was right on.

John and I were talking about the experience a few times that night. His independence and desire to read it himself...his deductive reasoning (getting all that from the items in the egg)...his willingness to go along with the program and participate (doesn't always happen that way). You know, all those things about our children that we marvel at as parents. But I was left really marveling at the power of the Spirit to testify, even to my little 4-year-old boy, the glorious message of Easter...that He lives (that he is not trapped in there forever).

I love Easter.