Sweet little Easter eggs, just waiting to be made into something magical…
Today is Easter Sunday.
It’s one of my favorite days of the year. Or…it used to be.
There is something so magical about this time of year. Flowers blooming. Gardens changing. Easter baskets. Egg hunts. Brunches with mimosas and family. And the symbolism of rebirth is all around us. It’s just very special to me.
But lately - especially this year - I am spending Easter Sunday a bit differently. My son is grown and at a concert this weekend. My fiance is spending time with his aging parents today. My best friend is on a European adventure. And the rest of my family is…well…doing their own thing I guess.
One thing spring harkens is that change is evident. Always. And nothing shows this phenomonon better than Easter. Expect the unexpected is the clear message we get on this day. Miracles abound. But somehow, today has felt less than miraculous and a little more regular and mundane.
So I am spending the afternoon looking for a different kind of magic. I am searching for small miracles. Messages from my son saying he’s fine and on the way home. New plants growing out in the garden. And the bluebirds that have been hanging around my yard today singing songs of joy. It’s a sunny, clear, gorgeous day that I can only be thankful for - despite all the changes that have settled in.
And all I hear in my heart now is this clear and vibrant message: “Life is right here outside your door, my love. It’s playing a game of hide and seek with you. Come out and play.”
