I can tell by the hue of the light peeking in around my bedroom curtains, it’s too early. I should know from past experience that my body isn’t going to let me sleep in today. I tiptoe through the house putting finishing touches on our Easter morning. I’m excited for the kids to wake up and find the tomb at ur Easter display, empty…to find their baskets filled and relieved that Jesus has conquered death. I slip on my fur-lined rain-boots, grab a jacket and one Easter egg. I sneak out of the quiet house into the dawn lit streets. The familiar drive through our neighborhood is peaceful and I stop at random trees to pick up flowers for his grave.

I always feel the invitation to know what Mary was feeling that Easter morning when she went to Jesus‘s grave. My experience will be different, I know, but even so, the walk up the dew covered grass hill holds even a little bit of mystery still. I see my boy’s name on the headstone and I greet him with tears. I kneel to lay down the flowers and I say with trembling…”hi sweetie, we will see you one day, that is what today means.”

I kiss the cold ground and head back home to welcome my children’s delight. I know that there will be many more years of this act, but one day full resurrection will come for all of us. Selah.