We spent Easter Sunday surrounded by family. We ate wonderful food and too much delicious candy.
We laughed together, enjoyed a beautiful day and delighted in the love of those we hold dear.
But for the last week I have had the title of this post playing over and over in my head.
At the most random moments, too.
Clearing the table after meals, Christ has died, Alleluia.
Reading to the children, Christ is risen. Alleluia!
Going out about town with my mom, Christ will come again.
I have found myself being so thankful for a God who would allow suffering and death for His only son to save my four sweet babies.
I have been thankful for children who accept and believe this fantastical story I've been telling them.
God loves us? OK
He sent Jesus, who is also God? Sure!
Jesus suffered, died on the cross, then ROSE FROM THE DEAD three days later? Great!
Jesus was the final sacrifice, his blood washes us clean? OK!
They are not sceptical.
In fact, they embrace the idea with gusto, telling everyone they know:
"and then! Jesus was dead, but now He's alive! and the ladies were crying and they poked him with a spear and he rode on a donkey into Jerusalem!"
So sometimes they get the timeline a little mixed up, but you get the gist of the story.
And for that I say Alleluia, Alleluia!