Motherhood, Thoughts on life

The Easter Bunny Doesn’t Come to Our House

Easter BunnyIt’s true, the Easter Bunny doesn’t come to our house. That sounds so cruel, doesn’t it? Before you start sneaking my kids jelly beans, rest assured, on Easter morning they will be greeted with a basket of fruit snacks (their favorite) and a new train set. See? I love my kids.

But it’s more difficult than it should be to explain a holiday celebrating Jesus rising from the dead and an Easter Bunny coming to our house in the middle of the night with candy. I mean, how do those two things tie together? It’s already complicated enough to tell my three-year-old the story of Jesus being born, who he was…is…that he died and raised from the dead three days later without involving an oversized rabbit that we let into our house once a year to bring candy.

And before you ask, no, Santa doesn’t come to our house either. That kind of makes me want to cry, but I’ll tell you more about that in December.

Today, we are talking about the Easter bunny. No, actually, we’re talking about Jesus. See? Where did the bunny come from?! The History Channel put together an interesting video showing a little, um, history on Easter.

Ty somehow explained the egg hunt in to the whole Jesus-rising story by telling Big Brother how the Marys went looking for Jesus and in the same way, we go looking for eggs…either way, if we can find ways to show our kids that Jesus is the center of everything we do, then that is what’s important. I haven’t Googled that yet and the boys are waking up, so I have to wrap this up.

I don’t care if you tell your kids the Easter bunny brought them candy, not even a little bit. I grew up with the Easter bunny (and Santa) and I love God and my whole world did not crumble into pieces when I found out my parents were the culprits of love and gifts.

Big Brother is on the “why” train, so he asks questions I wouldn’t ever think of. He’s three. That’s his job. I’m his mother, so giving him an answer or finding one is my job. I have found that relying on history is always a better route than lying or not giving him a straight answer. He’s smart. I want to keep him that way. He still finds joy in things the way a three-year-old will.

But the truth is so wild, so out-of-this-world, that it feels like a big enough story without the added fabrication. Do you know anyone who rose from the dead three days after being in a tomb? I mean, that’s a long time! I’ve seen videos and heard stories of people being resuscitated from death and they give me goose bumps. Imagine seeing someone you have been mourning for three days walking around. It’s like, if that can happen, then anything can happen!

So, happy Easter. I hope you enjoy your ham, eggs (boiled or jelly bean-filled), and your family. My children will partake in three egg hunts on Sunday, see their entire family and enjoy lots of fruit snacks. We will celebrate that Jesus has risen, that he lives in us each day and I will try to continue to wrap my head around the glory and power of the God I serve.

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