We attempted our first Easter Egg "hunt" with our 18 month old this year. By "hunt" I mean we threw a bunch of plastic eggs in 10 foot radius in the grass in our back yard and asked him to "clean up" by putting them in the lime green basket I found in "The Spot" at Target. He picked up about 60% of them before he started grabbing them out of the basket, shouting "BALL" and throwing them back into the grass. We got our instagram photo (which is the only reason we do these things anyway, right?), so we're good.
I love watching my kids. Whether it's watching them try to figure out some ridiculous tradition like putting plastic neon eggs in a basket, or them hiding in the corner while they poop, or watching them learn a new word, everything they do makes me fall more and more in love with them. The more my love grows for them, the greater my understanding of God's sacrifice becomes. Seriously. Read the Easter Story and as you read it, picture Jesus being YOUR son. How do you feel when your son is betrayed by one of his best friends (that's something we can relate with if we ever were a high school girl)? How do you feel when your son is wrongfully accused? How do you feel when they try to make a fool of your son by asking him to save himself (which he could do, but doesn't for our sake)? Don't you WANT to intervene? Don't you feel for him? You stand at a distance watching your child's pain and agony knowing that you can't help him for the sake of the rest of mankind. I can just imagine God's heart being ripped from his chest as he watched his only child betrayed and beaten and hung on that Cross. He had to let his son go through all of that so we could be washed white as snow. That is the purest form of love.