I determined sometime last week that this Easter I would not be able to put on the whole she-bang. I mean, I wanted, needed to celebrate the Resurrection, but I just knew I couldn't do all the baking, the cooking, the cleaning and the primping that I normally do. Not this year. I told John that I wished we could - gasp! - go to a restaurant for Easter dinner.
Most years, John and the boys go to the sunrise service at church while Lucy and I (and Uncle Clay and soon-to-be AUNT Robin!) get some sleep and then make sure everything is pitch-perfect for the meal later on.
This year, we let Uncle Clay and Robin sleep while all the rest of us got up at 5 am and made it to church for the sunrise service and church breakfast to follow. We even scored a full tray of French toast to bring home!
We came back, found our Easter baskets and went back to church for the 10:30 service.
It was possibly Clay and Robin's last time to go to Christ the King with us.
Stop it, Kit!
Then, instead of going to a restaurant, we went to our best friends' church to take part in their Easter lunch.
It was a great weekend, a great day.
Jesus lives! Death is dead, swallowed up in victory!
|This is what you do on Good Friday on the way to church on the T.|
|Holy Saturday, waiting for Easter...and Uncle Clay and Robin.|
|Two pretty ladies!|
|No, it's not a white suit. It is very light tan.|
It's Easter til he comes again!