It's been such a great day for my little family. We had our own little Easter dinner, complete with roast and funeral potatoes and mashed potatoes and sparkling cider, and this morning there were baskets and treats aplenty. The girls and I played a round of The Game of Life today, which Anna loves passionately, and for many hours today we watched General Conference and basked in the spirit of today's messages (which were particularly beautiful). As I put the girls to bed tonight I read chapter two of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe to Anna and Viva as the three of us lay in the bottom bunk of their bunk bed. I got really into it and did British accents, because I'm that dad.
Did the dishes. Played some games on my phone and made some phone calls while Lolly works on a paper for grad school. (Have I mentioned that she's in grad school? Studying marriage and family therapy of course. Our children are so lucky to have two psychotherapists for parents, aren't they???)
It was just a beautiful day.
We are going to have our fourth daughter in about a month. We plan to name her Alexa. (DON'T STEAL THAT NAME. SHE MUST BE THE ONLY ALEXA IN EXISTENCE. BECAUSE THAT'S HOW NAMES WORK.) Lolly's pregnancy has been obscenely good, which was something she was promised in a blessing years ago. It's been wonderful to see that happen.
And, guys, I haven't been here very much because I have been working on the book. It is almost done, and it is by far the most beautiful thing I've ever worked on. I'll probably be done in the next two weeks. And then I move onto the next thing while I give this book whatever wings it needs and send it into the world. I feel so happy about how it has turned out--this is a book that I am proud to have my name on. It's a book that comes directly from my heart. I am so, so excited to share it with you. I hope you'll forgive me for being so sporadic here over the last year when you get the chance to see what I've been working on. (Thanks for still being here. I love you all.)
I feel the winds of change brewing on the horizon. I don't know what that change will look like (other than the obvious stuff, like having a milk-addicted human slug in our house again). I get the feeling that the forthcoming changes will be wonderful and exciting and fulfilling, but all change is sad--change means we leave behind the tendrils of good that comprise the present. And right now, my "present" is really beautiful, really sweet, really wonderful. No matter how good the next phases are, I'll be sorry to see the current phase melt away. It's been lovely.
I want to wax all philosophical, and talk about how no moment is static. How it all bleeds into the next thing, forward and forward and forward until The End. (This poem from the New Yorker fits the theme well.) But instead I'll just share a picture that embodies this moment for me--knowing full well that some years hence I'll look back at in wonder at all that has changed--at all that we were on this wonderful day, and how different it is than the current "now." I've been musing about this concept a lot lately for some reason (read: I am getting old and it's uncomfortable.)
Anyway, here's a picture that embodies "now" for me:
I love these girls with all my heart.
I guess that's why Easter is so beautiful to me. It bespeaks permanence. Everywhere, there is entropy. Everywhere disintegration. And yet, in Christ there is the only hope of permanence, of restitution, of stasis, of Life.
Happy Easter, friends.