I have learned that very little fun happens with four children without some level of crazy and chaos. This weekend was no different. We remembered the passover. Lots of flour and drips of purple juice. Along with lots of questions and answers, readings and thinkings, out loud wonderings about God and the Exodus and spilled blood and the One who sets slaves free.
We colored eggs. More drips on the counter. Messy hands. Creative can't be contained and I am preaching to myself the voices that call me to let go of the control and let them be little. This will be an ongoing journey for me but this particular time, the fun was just fun. We talked about the reminder of new life and there were lots of smiles and amazement.
Saturday we hunted eggs and celebrated the Resurrection with my parents. Treasures found, we simply ate and played with new little things.
Sunday morning we worshipped and I was struck again that in the midst of mess and sin and death, there is always the hope of a resurrection.
And then we turned our attention to the Boy Who Is Five.
I feel that I should have more thoughts on his turning five. Maybe some laments over my babies growing up. Maybe some yearnings. Maybe some wonder at where the time has gone.
But yesterday all I could do was smile at who Blaise is and is becoming. What life! What thoughtfulness! What conversation! What determination! What love!
We had pizza (his choice) for lunch, then cake and ice cream and opened gifts.
Later, we hunted eggs with our neighbors and my parents came over with their gift for him. The bow and arrows have turned out to be one of his favorites.
And then as the day wound down, everyone (parents and neighbors) ended up in our house. A house that was showing the signs of a full weekend. Signs that Easter baskets and birthday gifts were in the process of being opened and explored. Signs that the laundry and dishes weren't quite done. Signs that school happens here and meals happen here and all my organizational efforts aren't always successful.
But you know what?
We all survived. It didn't matter that everything wasn't in its place. We could still love on Blaise and chat and just enjoy the chaos together.
Blaise gives me gifts all the time. He gifted me with the realization that when I thought I couldn't, there was a deeper part of me that could. He hugs tight when others might choose to pull away. He shows me there is often another way. And he is the one to pause, in the midst of the crazy, and remind me to look into eyes and listen to the hearts and take time to love.
Blaise is a giver of gifts. And yesterday, because of him, part of me was forced to break open and let some other humans into the mess that is just us. What a gift.
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