Our Easter was good. I don’t think we did anything remarkable that other christian families don’t do. We went to Easter egg hunts. We died eggs. We got dressed up and went to church. We ate ham and deviled eggs. But this year, for me, there was a somber tone to Easter. I’m sure the cold rainy weather was part of it. And my oldest being disenchanted with the idea of going egg hunting didn’t help. And I’m sure the sacred origins surrounding the holiday played into my solemnity. But I think my mood was mainly a result of the sorrowful state of so many things in the world. The bombings in Brussels are the most recent of the large scale catastrophes that dishearten me. Then of course there are the heated political debates, and the poor Syrian refugees on top of all the usual mayhem. On a more local scale, but no less upsetting, a family I’ve been following on FB for some time lost their 4 year old son to cancer today. Though we weren’t close, and I’d never actually met their sweet little boy, my world was shaken by the news of his passing.

So, to me Easter has to mean more than bunnies, eggs, Sunday dresses, and candy. Easter has to mean hope.