Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

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Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!
Earth and heaven in chorus say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing ye heavens and earth reply, Alleluia!

Love’s redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids him rise, Alleluia!
Christ has opened paradise, Alleluia!

Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
Once he died our souls to save, Alleluia!
Where’s thy victory, boasting grave? Alleluia!

Soar we now where Christ has led, Alleluia!
Following our exalted head, Alleluia!
Made like him, like him we rise, Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!

–Christ the Lord is Risen Today
words:  Charles Wesley, 1739
music: Lyra Davidica, 1708

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Onion-Skin Eggs

These reddish-brown eggs dyed with onion skins seem appropriately colored for Good Friday.  Simply boil the eggs with lots of skins from ordinary yellow onions.  We cook the eggs at low heat for at least an hour.  The longer the boiling time, the richer and deeper the color.  The low heat helps to seal the yolk in a neat pocket.  If no cracks develop, the eggs may be kept for several years.   To create a print of leaves or flowers, using cheesecloth, wrap the plant tightly against the egg.  Tie the top and bottom ends with cooking twine and add the egg to the pot. 
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This egg shows the deep red color possible with a long cooking time.

Our Good Friday God

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On Good Friday, we give thanks to a loving, compassionate God who suffers with us.  Our God is not a remote, impassive being who rules from on high.  He came down to our level; he entered into the midst of our messy lives.  Jesus, our brother, gave his own life to save us, his unworthy siblings.  He died for us while we were yet sinners.  He knows our worst pain, because he has endured it first-hand: betrayal, sorrow, humiliation, physical agony, and death.  God the Father knows intimately the terrible reality of losing a child.  Our God continues to suffer as we suffer.   He grieves as we grieve, because we are his.  We are family.  Our God surrounds us with his Holy Spirit, as close as our own breath, to sustain and comfort us.

Good Friday is good because our God is good.  This day commemorates the completion of Jesus’s mission.  From the cross, he cried out, “It is finished.”  The perfect sacrifice has been made, salvation has been accomplished, and we are redeemed.

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Easy, Peaceful Marbleized Eggs

An easy, stress-free approach to egg decorating (much appreciated after our Ukrainian conflagration) is this technique for marbleizing eggs.  Having learned a valuable lesson, we began by boiling our eggs.  We used the dye tablets from a typical kids’ egg decorating kit, added a drop or two of olive oil, and immersed the eggs.  The results are pretty, if subtle.  No unusual tools, hot wax or flames required.   

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We wanted very pale colors for these eggs.
Darker hues, of course, are possible using longer dyeing times.

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A Dangerous Game: Ukrainian-Style Egg-Decorating

One year, Mama sent a kit for decorating eggs in the traditional Ukrainian style. A far more ambitious undertaking than our decoupage eggs, it required actual skill in addition to careful planning and immense reserves of patience.

We knew immediately that the intricate, perfect geometry of the typical Ukrainian patterns were beyond us, so we opted for simplified, free-form designs.  We diligently followed the detailed instructions, using the writing tool called the kistka to draw a design with hot beeswax.  We then immersed the egg in one of the dye colors.  This drawing and dyeing process was repeated several times.  Finally, we removed the wax by holding the egg near a candle flame.  We managed to create some attractive and unique eggs that bore no resemblance at all to those pictured in the kit.

We might have completed the project without incident had the eggs been less fragile.  As instructed, we used raw eggs.  And as we learned, one tends to grip an egg firmly while drawing on it with an unfamiliar, hot-wax dispensing tool.  Sometimes one grips too firmly, resulting in an egg being launched, missile-like, across the room.  The shattered egg stirred up the sudden and fiery wrath of my daughter.  Just as quickly, I was ignited by her anger.  Engulfed in a fit akin to spontaneous combustion, I hurled the egg I was holding onto the kitchen floor. I threw this egg (nearly-completed and painstakingly designed), with considerable force, making the inevitable clean-up all the more painful.  In a household of flammable tempers, holiday decorating has its perils.

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The kit, showing some ideal Ukrainian designs.

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 Only a few of our Ukrainian-inspired eggs survive.

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Egg-Decorating Time

Egg decorating has always been a major concern at our house during the week before Easter.  My mother’s love of Easter crafts is almost as pronounced as her devotion to Christmas decorations.  In order to ensure the continuation of the family tradition, nearly every spring she sends new ideas for egg decorating or a specialty kit.  Several years ago, thanks to Mama, my daughter and I tried our hand at decoupage eggs.  This is a fun and relatively child-friendly approach to egg decorating.  It requires minimal skill, a bit of patience, and a tolerance for sticky fingers.  An appreciation for Mod Podge is a plus. The results can be very charming.   

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Some of our favorite decoupage egg designs.


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The kit included several blown-out goose eggs, which offer more decorating space.  These eggs adorn our Easter tree each year.

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Palm Sunday: Everyone Loves a Winner

On Palm Sunday Jesus was hailed as a celebrity, a military and political hero-to-be.  As he and his disciples entered  the city of Jerusalem, adoring, cheering crowds greeted them.  The news was out: at long last, the King of Israel was here.  He was the chosen one sent by God to restore power to the Jewish nation.  He rode on a donkey to fulfill the prophecy in Zechariah 9:9:  See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey.

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It was a time of great rejoicing for the people of Israel.  A new day of freedom and empowerment was dawning, thanks to the advent of the conquering Messiah.  The palm branches they waved were emblems of Israeli nationalism.

In just a few days, though, the tide would turn. The admiring throngs would scatter when it became clear that Jesus was not the kind of king they had desired and expected.  Even his dearest friends would desert him.  He would be betrayed by one of his own, turned over to the Roman authorities and crucified. On Good Friday, it would appear that this man was no winner.

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Good Friday, however, is not the end of the story.

The Hunger Games: A Movie Event for my Daughter

Just as I was bemoaning my daughter’s dearth of memorable movie experiences, she was invited to a birthday party to see The Hunger Games on its opening night. This is great! I thought. She can learn to love going to the movies, and I am not inconvenienced. My parents must have felt a similar degree of relief when I went to Disney World with our church youth group. My husband and I are in complete agreement that opening-night showings of eagerly anticipated potential blockbusters are firmly in our past. I was excited that D had the chance to participate in a true film event. I also looked forward to a pleasant, quiet spring evening at home. Maybe a couple of drinks on the porch with H.  How nice for everyone.

D, ever the skeptic, has a tendency to cast a cool and wary eye on many, if not all, trends in pop culture. It pleases me immensely that she doesn’t follow, willy-nilly, the noise of the crowd. She was especially suspicious of such tween phenomena as Hannah Montana, the Jonas Brothers, High School Musical and Justin Bieber. I think she imagined a vast adult conspiracy to control the tastes of her peer group, and she resented it.

She was unmoved by the prospect of the Harry Potter saga, even though H’s grandmother gave us all the books in the series (after enjoying them herself). I read most of the first book to D when she was in third grade or so. Toward the end, during Harry’s confrontation with Voldemort, her interest waned. The situation was too tense for pleasurable before-bed reading. She resisted when I suggested afternoon readings, and so the book remained unfinished. We saw the first movie several years after it appeared, at home on DVD. With that, her tepid interest in Harry Potter was quenched.

As for Twilight, it sounded ridiculous, according to D. Having been raised on horror stories, I was curious to see what the fuss was about, so I bought the books. After finding the first one more satisfying than I had expected, D read it and gave it a lukewarm review. She felt no need to continue with the next volumes or to see any of the movies.

My daughter was no more interested in The Hunger Games series for several years. Children fighting to the death? Really? How truly horrible!  I agreed with her. It sounded like something best avoided. But as the hype surrounding the movie gained momentum, and as friends she respected spoke of their enjoyment of the books, she cracked. When a friend lent her the first book, she began reading. She loved it, she was surprised to admit. The opening night birthday party gave her a deadline, and she stayed up late finishing the book.

The family of the birthday girl has continued to eagerly embrace the movie-going tradition. I admire their zest and stamina. They took their girls to all the Harry Potter films, typically on opening weekends, many at midnight showings, frequently in costume. Once at a neighborhood party, the mother told me that she and a friend had attended a weekday 1 AM opening of Sweeney Todd. Despite being exhausted at work the following day, it was worth it, she said, clearly elated. I can only vaguely remember a time when I might have felt that way.

D’s first real movie event was a great success, thanks to the enthusiasm of her friend and her parents. The theatre was among the newest and most comfortable in our area. The screen is quite large by today’s standards, and the seating is stadium style. Even if an incredibly tall person sporting a top hat occupies the seat ahead, it’s still possible to see the action.

Thanks to our twenty-first century technology, I got a play-by-play report of the evening. The texts arrived with regularity:

  • In theatre. It’s sold out!
  • Just saw 3 other friends here!
  • Preview for Dark Shadows!
  • It’s starting!

At this point, there was a break, I’m glad to say, during which she actually directed her attention away from her phone and toward the screen. I can imagine the rows of young teenagers putting their phones to sleep and raising their heads in unison. The final film-related text was this:

  • The movie was awesome!

The Hunger Games ended my daughter’s long stint as a reluctant movie-goer. I doubt it will result in her unconditional acceptance of every teen trend to come. She has, however, already expressed an interest in seeing Titanic 3-D with friends over spring break. I bet she’ll be up for Dark Shadows, although she may no longer want me to tag along. If so, Mama will go with me. That’s the thing about mothers—the good ones never get too grown up to be seen with their children.

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Finally, a young-adult phenomenon that my daughter endorses.

Mindful Eating, and a Mindful Lent

In Lenten seasons past, I have denied myself some treat that I take for granted. Or I haven’t, and I’ve felt guilty about it. Either way, the result was less than inspiring.

One year, I avoided all desserts, including chocolate, ice cream, cake and candy. I stood firm in my abstemiousness. My Lenten sacrifice was technically a success, and perhaps it was worthwhile. It showed me that I do possess a measure of self-control. But spiritually, there was no real gain. Looking back, I see that I was at times a sanctimonious kill-joy. My husband’s family came for a visit, and I made a beautiful cake. But I didn’t eat a single bite, and I let it be obvious that I wasn’t eating. This, no doubt, did nothing for my own or anyone else’s spiritual edification.

Another year I tried to turn Lent into a diet. I may have lost a few pounds; I can’t even remember. Possibly I became lighter, but no more enlightened. It was during this time that I realized Sundays were not included in Lent. This prompted me to overindulge every Sunday, making Monday’s austerity even harder to face.

This year I’m not giving up a specific treat. Instead, my goal is to observe a mindful Lent. There is much talk these days of the benefits of mindful eating, a Buddhist-inspired practice whereby in savoring a single almond or three raisins for a half hour, we discover a more abiding pleasure in food. I will not go to this extreme, but I will try to be far less mindless in my eating. On most days, at least, I will count out my twelve cancer-fighting cashews (recommended by Dr. Oz), instead of grazing thoughtlessly from the container. And on all days, I will try to be thankful for the bounty of nourishment that is within our easy grasp. I will cook healthy meals for my family, and consume in moderation.

I will try to be mindful not only in eating, but in living. The Biblical basis of Lent is the forty-day period of prayer and preparation that Christ spent in the wilderness before beginning his ministry. Remarkably, he fasted the entire time, and even in his physically weakened state, he resisted repeated temptations by Satan. That forty-day fast was certainly a serious endeavor, so much so that it tends to make us forget about its greater purpose. We trivialize Lent when we turn it into an exercise of nothing more than our willpower over food. Christ’s forgoing of food was not the point; it was one aspect of spiritual preparation, of renewing his connection with the Father in order to be effective in his ministry.

After the example of Jesus, Christians are encouraged to strengthen their ties to God during the six weeks before Easter. By following a more disciplined program of Bible study, prayer, introspection, good works and moderate or sparing consumption, we are better equipped to fully appreciate the power and the glory of the resurrection.

Maybe I’m taking the easy way out this Lent. It’s true that I hate the thought of giving up chocolate, for example, when we have Russell Stover’s candy remaining from Valentine’s Day. (I also hate waste.) But simply giving up on a certain food hasn’t helped me recharge my spiritual battery in the past. Instead, my goal will be to live each day of Lent mindfully, prayerfully, and humbly. I probably won’t succeed every day, but I will keep my sights on the brilliant blessing of Easter that awaits. This will give me a fighting chance.

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Not off-limits for me this Lent, but to be savored (mindfully)!

A blog about motherhood, marriage and life: the joys and frustrations, beauty and absurdity, blessings and pain. It's about looking back, looking ahead, and walking the dog.