Easter

We kicked off the Easter Holiday with an egg hunt on a private family farm outside of Riyadh. It was hosted by the Canadian Community of Riyadh, we were invited by our friends the Brauns, who are diplomats at the Canadian Embassy, they are privy to to all sorts of good information.

It was a lovely way to spend the morning. The farm was so pleasant, the activities well organized and orchestrated, the kids happy and the chance to have a family day. We are pretty blissful whenever we get those.

I had two favorite moments of the egg hunt. 1. I tripped in my platform wedges (I know, clearly the wrong egg hunt footwear). Bode on my hand, looks up at me and says, “Ok, mama?” 2. Bode couldn’t seem to see eggs that were sitting at his feet, his big sister took on the role of helper. “Over here Bode, over here!! Come on!”

Bode thought the three legged race was the stupidest idea he’d come come across yet in his young two years.

My kids are the filthiest bunch of cheaters you ever saw. Shameless.

Aren’t I a lucky gal?

Pretty desolate up there on top of the plateau. But green and lovely down in the wadi (valley).

A week later, we dressed for Easter Sabbath. And totally failed at getting a decent photo.

Later that day, we hosted brunch at our house. The kids enjoyed an egg hunt and making a mighty mess. As far as holidays go, it was a success.

As far as the crucifixion of our Savior and his subsequent rise three days later, well, that just seems to get more meaningful every year. My heart and mind seem to find their way back to Jerusalem every Easter season. The profound experiences I had sitting in the Garden of Gethsemane and outside the Garden tomb, climb a little deeper into my testimony each year; that he lives, that he loves me and that not only does he love me, but is aware of me, aware of my struggle, my heartache, my regrets, and that had that great sacrifice so many generations ago, had to have happened just for me, just for Katelyn Banks Hunt, it would have happened. He would have done it. I once again find myself in the region of his ministry, and while it looks and feels and is far different than Jerusalem, this is the area of his inheritance and his love and influence is felt as deeply here in the Muslim world as anywhere else I have felt it. How grateful I am for the eggs and chicks and new Easter garb to reflect on such an extraordinary life and love.