I've wanted to post all week about this coming weekend and what it represents for me.
I had hoped to gather my thoughts into a coherent post about the meaning of Christ's life, his violent death, and then His glorious, impossible resurrection.
But even as I typed that sentence I've had to get off the computer twice for something Andrew needs. This is my life right now - pulled every which way, outside of myself, no time for coherent thoughts to form...
But there is such great hope. The hope that naptime will be quiet, that bedtime will come soon, that residency will be over, that Christ will come again.
I hope that this weekend you'll let Easter give you hope.
And since I couldn't form an eloquent post, here's one from someone so much better equipped to do it.