This is Sluggo the Easter Egg (a.k.a. "The Enemy")

Have a Happy Easter Time

Raising a child in a Christian family sometimes creates quite a contrast, to me; I verge on pure hypocrisy, especially at Easter. I mean, it is springtime, complete with birds chirping and budding flowers on the ornamental pear trees. We drive down the highway with our windows down and with the laid-back cant that comes only with the change of seasons. There is a bit of Spring fever beneath the surface of everything--I say this as someone who lives in Texas, where winter lasts nearly two weeks; I cannot comprehend the effects Spring's arrival must have on my friends in, say, Minnesota. I suspect they are truly hardier people than are we, that is until summer hits Texas.

The problem is this: I don't want to explain the Christian reason for Easter, especially in the face of chocolate bunnies and bright-colored eggs and joy and birds and happiness to Mia. So, I compromise, and tell her about Jesus (a G-rated version a pretty far cry from Mel Gibson's Passion).

See, I like to see Mia hunting eggs, despite the fact that doing so is arbitrary to me. I mean, aside from the fact that I used to hunt eggs at my Nanny's house on Easter, there is no personal reason for me to enjoy seeing Mia do so. There should be, however, a personal reason for me to tell her all about Jesus and the cross and His victory over it. If Easter is nothing but chocolates and eggs, and Christmas is just another holiday boost to sales, all fruitcakes and Santa television specials, then I wonder about just how much I must believe in Jesus. After all, if I believed Jesus was who I say He was, and if I am who I pretend to be on Sundays, then shouldn't that Easter story trump the one about Peter Cottontail when I am talking to my daughter, the person dearest to me on this planet?

Leah, Morgan, Mia and Stacy prepare to color eggs

I will keep on thinking this through. Meanwhile, pass the egg dye....

Mia making eggs look great!