“Christmas and Easter can be subjects for poetry, but Good Friday, like Auschwitz, cannot. The reality is so horrible it is not surprising that people should have found it a stumbling block to faith.” ~W.H. Auden

Years ago, when The Passion of the Christ came out in theaters, I was eager to see it. I had read the reviews and I knew that it was going to be a bloody, gruesome movie, but I also heard it was well written and acted and would give me a more realistic understanding of the Crucifixion. I remember finding a seat in the crowded theater only to realize that I was sitting next to a small girl, probably no older than 8. As the movie progressed and became more graphic, I heard the little girl next to me whimpering, and moments later she was crying. As they whipped Jesus and the blood ran down his back she buried her head in the shoulder of the woman she came with and cried. As they nailed him to the cross, (a scene I had to turn my head from watching) I heard her wail, “Why are they doing that to Jesus?!?” By the end of the movie, I could tell she was not the only traumatized person in the theater. There were people crying everywhere, and I would be lying if I said there were no tears in my eyes.

Now I am not going to get into whether or not that child should have been in the theater in the first place, my point is she asked a very valid question. Why are they doing that to Jesus? And since that day, when I stop and think about the Crucifixion, her question surfaces in my mind.

If I am honest with myself, the answer to that question is that they were doing that to Jesus because of me! And the horror of that reality is life changing. You see, I tend to think of myself as not that bad. After all, I was raised in the church, I follow the rules, I think I make pretty good choices.

But when I stare at the cross, and the full weight of its implications settle on me, all my good deeds are stripped away and what is left in the vacuum is my pride and selfishness. Daily I do things that should separate me from God, but for the cross I would be lost, because it was there Christ took my punishment. The cross was bloody and gruesome and horrible, but the physical death paled in comparison  to the devastating emptiness when God turned His back on His son. The punishment that by birthright was mine, fell on another, so that in doing so I could be restored! So I cannot boast of my good deeds, or my virtues, for they have played no role in my redemption, but rather I cling to the promise of that bloody cross, for it is only by the arms and feet that bore those nails that I have been redeemed!

“I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me.” ~Galatians 2:20

“I am wholly deserving of all the consequences that I will in fact never receive simply because God unashamedly stepped in front of me on the cross, unflinchingly spread His arms so as to completely shield me from the retribution that was mine to bear, and repeatedly took the blows. And I stand entirely unwounded, utterly lost in the fact that the while His body was pummeled and bloodied to death by that which was meant for me and me alone, I have not a scratch.” ~Craig D. Lounsbrough

“It is to the Cross that the Christian is challenged to follow his Master: no path of redemption can make a detour around it.” ~Hans Urs con Balthasar

“But the resurrection without the crucifixion is empty optimism, an optimism that gives credence to Freud’s notion that wishful thinking is the sum and substance of our faith. Include the crucifixion–and our role in that bloody moment–and the whole picture changes.” ~Mark Galli

After several uncharacteristically quiet evenings, the big kids came home.  The house went from nearly silent to boisterous and rowdy in a matter of seconds as they burst through the door, eager to fill me in with the news of their new shoes and awesome adventures. You see, visiting their grandparents is always a special treat. They get to do many fun things like go to the park, play at Chik-Fil-A, and ride the carousel at the local mall. These are things that might happen now and again with us, but they all get crammed into one visit for the kids, so they get extra excited about their stay! I love seeing my children so excited about my family. I love seeing my kids interact with my mom, dad, and sister and I enjoy watching their relationships blossom. I am so thankful to have them living so close and thankful that they enjoy the kids as much as the kids enjoy them!

Days like today are hard. The bombings that ripped through a busy airport and metro station in Brussels this morning keep taking me back to memories I would rather not visit, but it can’t be helped. These events are happening more frequently these days and with them comes a foreboding sense that it’s only a matter of time before it hits close to home again, though thankfully it has been years since my mind has been daily imagining the worst.

But still it creeps in, usually unexpectedly… A news report, a photo in my newsfeed, a passing conversation. This morning it came on my commute… music giving way to somber voices retelling the horrific details of the attacks an ocean away. And so today my heart breaks for the people of Brussels- their chaos, their fear, and their uncertainty.

But this I can say for certain…

In the midst of the carnage, God was there.

He was in the airport.

He was in the metro.

He was there.

If He was there, why didn’t He stop it? Why would He let this happen? Is He so cruel and aloof and detached that He just did not care? He could have stopped it, so why didn’t He?

I ask these questions now on behalf of those people in Brussels, because 15 years ago it was me asking them- standing under a blackened sky, smelling the acrid smell that haunted me for months, and hearing ambulances and firetrucks in the distance.

I remember after C was born and I had to leave the house and I found it so very intimidating. I would get overwhelmed with all the things I needed to bring with me, and I’d hurry around gathering all of my supplies. When we went out in public and she would fuss I would start to get anxious as I felt everyone was staring at me. And if she started to cry, I would high tail it to the car. It was such a stressful experience.

Fast forward to this evening. The two older kids are visiting my parents so Baby E and I went to the grocery store. Instead of being a stressful, anxiety inducing episode, it was so peaceful… after all I only had one child to look after! And even when he started fussing and crying (as he was both hungry and tired) it wasn’t at all upsetting. I just distracted him with goldfish crackers and silly little games.

It’s funny how time and perspective change things!

It’s starting to happen, that silly roughhousing that happens between brothers. Big E will start to goad Baby E on and the next thing I know, Baby E has thrown himself on top of his brother and starts to pummel him with his little hands as they both shriek and laugh in utter delight. Big E has taught Baby E to chase him around and try to tickle him. Both Big E and C will call him The Giant Baby as they scream and run away from him and Baby E will wave his hands in the air as he squeals and follows them!

At 6:52 pm this evening, my little boy officially turned four years old. It’s been four years of cuddles, snuggles, laughs, tears, smiles, fits, and silliness. Big E is one of the most incredible kids I have ever met and I am blessed to call him my son. He is compassionate, selfless (at least for a small kid!), affectionate, and kind. He goes out of his way to cheer people up and he is never too busy to tell you that he loves you. He thrives on hugs and affirmation. He loves superheroes, transformers, ninja turtles, and trains. He can’t wait to grow up and be strong like daddy and grow his own facial hair. He wants to be a mechanic and tree cutter and a daddy. He wants a dog for a pet. He likes to sleep with Christmas lights in his window. His favorite food is peanut butter and jelly sammiches. He also enjoys pizza (but not the crust.) He likes waffles, eggs, and goldfish crackers. He enjoys cotton candy flavored Rita’s Italian Ice. He loves riding his tricycle. He isn’t terribly coordinated and often trips or runs into things (he comes by that naturally! He’s just like his momma!) He’s quick to apologize when he has done something wrong and gets embarrassed easily if he thinks he  has messed up in front of someone. He gets shy and silly around girls and women. He loves to crawl into Baby E’s crib each morning and cheers him up. He is very competitive with his sister. He has a wonderful lap and he loves being tickled.

I think I could spend the rest of my evening going on about how great this little guy is, but I will leave it with this. I love him greatly and he has brought such joy to our lives!

Happy Birthday, Big E! I pray that you will continue to grow in love and compassion. That you will never lose your positive attitude and your desire to connect with the people around you. I pray that as you grow, you will draw ever closer to your Creator and desire to pursue Him as He pursues you. I believe you can and will do great things with your life and I hope you always remember that your Mommy and Daddy love you and are always rooting you on!

So I’ve been fighting a cold for the past three weeks! And this morning on the way to work I figured I would just suck it up and stop at the Minute Clinic and get checked out. My throat has been tight, not scratchy, but it hurts to swallow. It hurts mostly at night, during the day it is pretty tolerable.  My nose has been stuffy, but not runny. And I have a cough that bothers me at night and early in the morning making it difficult to sleep.

After dropping the kids off this morning I swung by CVS.  I got there 10 minutes after they opened, so I figured I wouldn’t have to wait long. Except when I arrived there were four people in front of me. *sigh* So I called my doctor and begged to see if they could see me this morning and they could take me if I could get there in five minutes. Done! The appointment was quick. Not strep throat (which I figured because I’ve had strep before several times and this didn’t feel like strep.) But I do have a double ear infection. So antibiotics it is!

Hopefully they kick in soon and life goes back to normal quickly!

C’s Spring Break has officially started and they spent time dying eggs and pretending to be bunnies! What a fun afternoon!! Rebecca took some great pictures that I am trying to post, but WordPress is being finicky tonight so they might wait until tomorrow.

I am still processing that tomorrow Big E will be four! I’m looking forward to celebrating my little man!

The other day C came home from school and told me that they were watching a movie in class that really, really scared her. She went up to the teacher and told her that she was scared, (I’m pretty proud of her for speaking up about it… I wouldn’t have as a kid.) The teacher seemed surprised that it was scary to C, but then asked her if she would like to go for a walk instead. So C and her teacher went for a walk while the rest of the movie played out.

As she was telling me this story the my first thought was gratitude to the teacher for taking my daughter’s concern seriously and providing her an “out” for her during an uncomfortable situation.

My second thought was, “What could they possibly have been watching to freak C out so bad. It’s kindergarten for goodness’ sake!”

After pressing C a little bit, and getting some more description from her we learned that it was an episode of The Magic School Bus. Yup, my kid was terrified of the Magic School Bus.  I admit I was pretty perplexed, so I started asking more questions. According to C, she has seen multiple episodes and had never had a problem with it before that day. That particular day they watched the episode where the school bus is shrunk really small and goes inside the teacher’s body via her nose to see how her breathing and circulation works.  After C was in bed, I tracked the episode down on Netflix and watched the first ten minutes of it. The bus travels around in her lungs and arteries and gets itself into a few dicey situations. After watching it, I’m still kind of confused as to what had her so worried, but I know it was bothering her pretty bad because she woke up multiple times that night crying about that movie! Poor little girl. She has a crazy active imagination and a scary good memory, so I know I have to be vigilant about what she watches.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind my kids watching tv. But due to some of my own childhood experiences with reckless babysitters, I try to be very aware of what my children are watching. It’s not that I want to shield them from everything, because I really don’t. However I do want to shield them from subject matter that they don’t need to be dealing with at an early age. (For example, unless it is a British Drama, I really don’t watch adult shows in front of the kids. And by British Drama I mean something more along the lines of Pride and Prejudice and not Downton Abbey.) But I also want to know what they are seeing so that I can have an informed conversation with them. If I’ve seen a movie before they have then I am better prepared to answer any of those questions that inevitably pop up when kids watch things for the first time. With that said, there are plenty of movies and shows that I would deem “safe” before needing to watch them, and honestly The Magic School Bus falls pretty squarely into that category, so the fact that it frightened her so badly was surprising to say the least!