I went way overboard on the Easter candy this year.
Saturday night, I filled my daughters' baskets with various goodies I’d purchased and hid in my closet. My husband watched as I nestled crayon boxes, hair clips, bubble canisters and treats into the shredded green paper grass. Then he let out a weird cackling sound—sort of a hybrid between a gasp, a laugh, and a snort.
“What?” I asked and took a step back to admire my handiwork. Yikes. Even I was appalled at the sheer volume of sugar sitting in those baskets. Twix, Kit Kats, M&Ms, Peeps, and half-pound solid chocolate crosses—because we are a spiritual family, after all. Talk about a junk food party waiting for a tummy to dance in.
The next day, when my girls discovered they’d hit the chocolate jackpot, I relished their hugs and giggles. I let them nosh on a few treats in the spirit of celebration. But then, like any reasonable mom, I gathered all the candy into a bag and banished it to the cupboard. Starting today, my little Twix hounds are allowed only one piece of candy after lunch—if they eat enough grapes to satisfy my healthy standards.
Cruel mother! To give a gift and then to take it back! To limit it, ration it, demand my children to earn it!
Aren’t you glad God does not do that to us?
“For God so loved the world, he gave his one and only son so that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life,” (John 3:16).
God loves us. So he gave us a sweet gift—his Son. That’s the reason we filled those Easter baskets in the first place. Jesus’ death and resurrection means I have eternal life. And nothing can take it away from me.
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord,” (Romans 8:38–39).
God’s love is so much better than chocolate. We can’t possibly consume too much of it. I predict that by next week, my daughters will have forgotten about their Easter candy. But they will still know my love. And they will still know that Jesus lived, died, and rose for them, long after I’ve wiped their sticky faces clean.
So for today, in the words of my two-year-old, I leave you with this beautiful truth, which I hope you will rejoice in all year round. “Jesus alive, Momma! Jesus alive!”
If this post encouraged you, please feel free to pass it on. You might also like Holiday Hangover and The Big Do-Over.