{ Remembering Easter Sunday }

Last night I was upstairs sitting with Scott and Ryan in their room trying to get them to bed. It was way past their bedtime, and I was trying my best to get them to sleep without too many tears from either of us. Getting two little boys to want to go to sleep after a full day of Easter egg hunts and chocolate was becoming a bit of a challenge. We got on pajamas, brushed teeth, read stories, put on their stickers on their bedtime sticker charts from the night before, said prayers, and they were at least laying down in their beds. I was sitting between them trying to keep the peace, and hoping that sleep would quickly find it’s way to them. I had my phone out and was trying to finish up reading parts of my Sunday school lesson that I would be teaching the next day.

After getting Ryan to actually lay down and be somewhat quiet for awhile, Scott started talking to me about Easter. I told him that tomorrow was a special day that Jesus was resurrected. Suddenly all the knowledge that he had stored up in that little 5 year old brain, came spilling out along with all the tender feelings one could hope to have about the Savior. His honest and sincere questions of exactly what happened when Jesus died, and what is would be like when we are resurrected, and how Jesus really lives filled me with awe as I sat listening to this young child. His understanding far surpassed that of even some adults, and that “old” spirit of his came shining through in a way that I hadn’t seen before.

The spirit in that room was so real, and I could see Scott get choked up as he talked to me about Jesus. He spoke up with such excitement to answer all of Ryan’s questions like what a tomb was, and that Jesus was crucified, and how it was for three days. He told him that Mary saw Jesus and he talked to her, and that a big rock was rolled away from the tomb. We talked about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost, and how they were all separate and real. He told me that we are all brothers and sisters because Heavenly Father is the father of our spirits-even him and his friend Ann from preschool. He told me that sometimes when he is in the car and Ryan isn’t talking to him he hears a voice and it’s Jesus telling him, “Choose the right Scott”.

As I sat there experiencing a little bit of heaven, I was thankful that Heavenly Father blessed me with an over abundance of patience at that moment. The swirling thoughts of all the many things I still needed to do that night and the chaos of a busy day disappeared and there I was with just my two little boys in a dark upper room remembering what Easter was all about. The little light that shined from my phone was so small and weak compared to the bright light of hope from the Savior I felt in my heart at that moment. I felt like I knew in such a different way what it meant to become as a little child, and I was thankful for my own little children who had taught me so much about Easter.

My love for what He did is overflowing as I think of how imperfect I am and how much I depend on His atoning sacrifice that He made for me. How grateful I am for the Savior Jesus Christ who suffered and died for all of our sins, and who gloriously rose again on the third day. What hope it gives me to know that someday we too will rise again to be with Him forever.

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