Having preschoolers makes you creative. How do you make something as brutal as Easter something that little people can contemplate? I saw an idea of a Grace Garden here, but I simply lacked the time to make that a reality. Yet, as Holy Week drew near, I was still looking for an idea, and I knew I wanted a candle to play a part of it.
So this morning, I took an off-white and broken candle. I explained to Max, that it is our Jesus Candle. It is broken because today we are remembering how Jesus was beaten, spit on and laughed at. We lit it, put it on a candle stick, and raised it onto the mantle.
My goal was to have a visual for the boys, but as it turns out, some of the simplest things are the most powerful. You see, that candle representing Jesus hanging on the cross today burned on as we had a little Easter egg hunt. It burned on as we ate lunch and remembered that at noon, everything went dark. It burned on as I read to my boys before their nap.
It burned on with wax flowing down its side as I lost my temper.
(I might as well could have been one of the mockers at the foot of the cross.)
Every time I looked to the candle, the flame steadfastly flickered on and the candle got smaller and smaller.
He hung for such a long time.
It burned on with wax flowing down its side as I lost my temper.
(I might as well could have been one of the mockers at the foot of the cross.)
Every time I looked to the candle, the flame steadfastly flickered on and the candle got smaller and smaller.
He hung for such a long time.
And then at the right time, the candle was extinguished.
The light was gone.
The light was gone.
Max wrapped the candle in a white hanky (one that has know many tears).
We put it in a tomb, next to our Hydrangea bush, and left.
Darkness.
