Our little family had a wonderful Easter. We were able to spend time doing all sorts of things … bike rides, visiting, play in the park, and of course, hunting for treats.
One of my most favorite things about Easter this year was that, after a couple of years of searching, I think we’ve found the right church for us! It’s fitting that our first service (and, frankly, theirs) was on Easter Sunday.
So here it is a day later (a day that was not so wonderful as Easter) and we are back to the normalcy of life. Except that tonight, God decided to drop a little Jesus on me. Don’t you love how that happens sometimes??
Little Man and I were getting ready to go to bed when he sort of randomly picked up the crucifix that sits on Husband’s night stand. [He's done this before. In fact, he seems to be very intrigued by the crucifixion.]
Tonight, after he told us that Jesus was nailed [always an emphasis on that word - always] to the cross and died, he looked at me and said, “Mom, this was what yesterday was all about.”
I was stunned. I didn’t think he was listening. Frankly, I should have known better.
We kept on talking about how Jesus got off the cross and the tomb was empty. That He then went to live in Heaven with God.
Without much pause, he said, “Our Odie is in Heaven with God. So’s Skeeter.” [This made Husband, who had just walked in to get something, mushy inside.]
Somewhere in the midst of all of this seriousness, Little Man must have dropped that crucifix on his toe. I honestly didn’t see him do it and he didn’t mention it. But, all of a sudden, his voice filled with tears.
LM: Mom, my toe is hurt and there’s blood, but I’m OK.
Me: What happened? Did you hurt your toenail?
LM: It happened when Jesus fell on my toe.
Me: (smiling) Jesus fell on your toe?
LM: (with the slightest bit of impatience) Not the real Jesus, Mom. The metal one.
Me: Oh. Are you OK?
LM: (bravely and with a sniffle) Yes. There is blood, but I’ll be OK. It’ll heal soon.
Me: Do you need a band-aid?
LM: I think so.
Me: OK, Daddy’s downstairs where your band-aids are. Go ask him for a band-aid.
I took this time to open Twitter … because, really, how many times do you hear the phrase, “Jesus fell on my toe.” As I was composing my tweet, I had to backspace and start over because this is what I heard.
LM: (now wailing at the bottom of the steps) IIIIIII neeeeedddd aaaa baaannnddd-aaaiiiidddd!
Husband: Jen, what happened?
LM: (sobbing loudly) Jesus fell on my toe and it’s bleeding and I need a band-aid.
Me: He wasn’t sobbing when he left me, he had a small cut. Really.
Husband: OK, let’s get you a band-aid and get you upstairs.
So, I’m all a Twitter when the boys get back upstairs. Little Man has calmed down and Husband is helping him with the stress of having Jesus fall on his toe. The conversation resumes.
Me: (sincerely) Love, are you OK?
LM: (sniffles) Yes. My toe will start healing now. I’ll have to walk carefully on it.
Husband: I don’t think Jesus meant to land on your toe, bug.
LM: For real, Jesus is supposed to watch us and take care of kids.
Our Easter blessings were many this year and they continue still … a beautiful day, time with friends and family, a new church home, and a sweet childlike reminder that sometimes we have to go through some pain to get to what’s real and good and true.
Hope you had a very Happy Easter!I'll be hoppin' along now ...