He came back to "wife"

“Please God, don’t bleed!” My little boy stared hard at the picture of Jesus, crowned with thorns and facing an angry crowd. For a moment I wondered if he would cry. I wondered if I might, too. What was going through his five-year-old mind? Did he understand, even a little, what he was looking at? The story we were reading?

Being a child’s Easter book, the violence of the cross was muted into a watercolor of Jesus with small scratches that only hint of blood. The actual scene at Golgotha, on the next page, is pushed off into the distance where only three small crosses can be seen in the background while sad people cry up close in the foreground. Still, Caleb picked up immediately on the seriousness of the situation.

“Let’s do the crown of forns, Mommy,” he asked every day as I pulled out the Resurrection Eggs and accompanying book. Whatever egg we happened to be on, whichever part of the book, he would flip to that page with the picture and pour over it. “Ouchie, Mommy. Poor Jesus. Not nice!”

He was shocked later to learn that Jesus died. I sensed a storm gathering as he processed the information, but managed to head him off with the Good News, even though that was technically supposed to be a surprise for Easter morning. “It’s ok, little man. Jesus died for us, but then He came back to life on Easter Sunday. He’s ok, I promise.”

“He come back to wife?” (Pardon the lisp).

“Yes, sweet boy. Jesus is alive.” A smile forms on his lips. (Whew. Disaster averted.)

Guess what I heard the rest of the week? "Jesus rose from da dead, Mommy. He's awive."

Why yes, yes He is.

We both enjoyed going through the Resurrection Eggs this year. We did them last year (a big hit then as well), but this year was different. Last year we opened a brightly colored egg every day of Passion Week with a funny little surprise in each one. This year, the eggs and the book told a story. A story that Caleb followed with interest and enthusiasm.

He’s growing up, that little boy of mine.

Yesterday morning, when I got home from early service, Caleb and I had ourselves an Easter picnic in the backyard. Daddy was at late service, the day was beautiful and warm (hallelujah!), so Caleb and I dragged out a blanket, my bible, and some snacks. And the last egg.

“It’s empty!” Caleb looked confused. A little disappointed. “It’s empty because Jesus rose from the dead,” I explain. “The tomb was empty because Jesus is alive!” I read Matthew 28:5-7. About the angels and the women and the Good News.

I’m not sure he “gets” it. But then, he is five. He asks to play with the spear and the rock from earlier eggs, and I let him. He’s grown so much since last year. Understands so much more than he used to. I love watching him learn, especially about God. Between the autism and the developmental delays, it’s a blessing I don’t take for granted.

I hope your Easters were sweet and colorful and full of hope, my friends! He is risen! He is risen indeed!