Multitude Mondays: Why Our Neighbors Might Think We’re Crazy
“The neighbors are going to think you’re crazy,” my husband had warned the first time I’d told him about my plan to begin a marvelous new Easter tradition.
He’d repeated the words last year on Easter morning as he’d kissed the top of my head and watched me traipse out the door at sunrise with a basket of breakfast wares. “I am crazy,” I had replied with a smile while I pulled on my polka-dot mud boots in preparation for the dew-soaked grass. “You knew that when you said I do!”
My man had responded with a quiet laugh and cast me one of those I love you even now grins.
And then he’d settled onto the couch with his coffee cup and the Sunday paper. And had promised to keep watch for the first Easter riser.
My husband’s playful words had rung in my ears as I’d strung our pear tree with miniature boxes of cereal and packs of snow-white donuts. I’m crazy.
The first rays of sun had played peek-a-boo with the murky streaks of night and I’d wondered if the light of that first Easter had arrived in much the same way.
Quietly. Gloriously. Pregnant with promise.
I’m crazy. The words had mingled with the trill of the woodpecker while I’d fastened pink-ribboned plastic cups to slender limbs and praised my risen Lord for drinking that cup of sorrows long ago.
Easter egg napkins dangling from threads of red had flapped in the gentle morning breeze. A wave of happy hallelujahs, like palm branches hailing a King.
I’d pictured His eyes, deep with knowing. My Savior on the back of a colt. Heaven’s darling moving humbly toward death.
I’d hung a plastic spoon on that tree in my front yard and pictured it again, the tree that had saved my life. Palm branches traded for torches. Praises exchanged for jeers.
He is crazy the Pharisees had said. A madman who deserves the cross.
I had tugged at a branch above my head, pulled it low to bind a ribbon around its limbs. Like the soldiers had bound His hands and feet? It was crazy, wasn’t it? The King of glory bound by nails. The Breath of Heaven gasping for air.
And me- hanging donuts on a tree because of One who hung in my place.
And me- hanging donuts on a tree because of One who hung in my place.
I had wondered how the morning dew had leaped from the grass to my burning eyes.
Wondered how many tears He had shed for me when He paid my ransom with crazy love.
Wondered how many tears He had shed for me when He paid my ransom with crazy love.
The horizon had blazed pink last year on Easter morning as I’d tied paper bowls and juice boxes around the perimeter of our pear tree. I had almost completed my mission when the upstairs windows in the house across the street flicked from black to gold.
My fingers had tingled with the chill of April dawn and Rob’s words had echoed above the songbird’s strain. The neighbors are going to think you’re crazy.
I’d stepped back to admire my work- a tree abloom with breakfast, lanky limbs laden with everything my children would need to fill their grumbling tummies.
And I’d remembered those words my teacher had spoken as she’d patted that felt-board cross into place.
Children, everything you need is on the tree. Jesus hung it there for you when He gave His life. Everything you need.
Children, everything you need is on the tree. Jesus hung it there for you when He gave His life. Everything you need.
I had sat on a baby-bear chair in that Sunday School room years ago, and I had believed her.
I’d loved Him even then. Loved Him with a crazy childish love.
I’d loved Him even then. Loved Him with a crazy childish love.
It is accomplished my Savior had cried as He’d surrendered on Calvary’s hill.
And in the blink of eternity, that tree of death became our hope of life.
And in the blink of eternity, that tree of death became our hope of life.
When His body, beaten and bruised was pulled from that tree, everything we need for abundant life dangled in its place.
Everything we need to fill our empty souls.
Everything we need to fill our empty souls.
I am crazy! I’d said with a laugh and one final glance at our picnic-dotted tree. Then I’d turned back to the house where my husband waited for his crazy wife.
Crazy in love with Jesus.
Crazy for my children to love Him, too.
Crazy to be Easter people, bursting with faith. Walking in grace.
Overflowing with life.
Crazy to live for Him and die to self…
Crazy to be Easter people, bursting with faith. Walking in grace.
Overflowing with life.
Crazy to live for Him and die to self…
Crazy with hope that the ten growing feet trampling our grass and cramming beneath our table will follow me to the foot of the cross and find it has everything we need. More than we need.
And so began our most unusual Easter ritual.
Breakfast plucked from the tree before the pretty dresses are snatched from the closet. Breakfast hanging from ordinary branches on an extraordinary day.
Eve’s folly covered by grace. The fruit of His sacrifice now ours for the taking.
And so began our most unusual Easter ritual.
Breakfast plucked from the tree before the pretty dresses are snatched from the closet. Breakfast hanging from ordinary branches on an extraordinary day.
Eve’s folly covered by grace. The fruit of His sacrifice now ours for the taking.
That tree may confound our neighbors, but it needs no explanation within the walls of our child-filled home.
When my sleepy ones stumbled from bed yesterday, they knew just what to do. After all, it’s tradition now.
Open wide the front door and race to those breakfast-lined limbs.
Then, with hands lifted in praise, reach up and pluck a sugar-sprinkled treat from that crazy tree.
Then, with hands lifted in praise, reach up and pluck a sugar-sprinkled treat from that crazy tree.
And taste with gratitude His crazy, crazy love.
The Overflow: If one man’s sin put crowds of people at the dead-end abyss of separation from God, just think what God’s gift poured through one man, Jesus Christ, will do… can you imagine the breathtaking recovery life makes, sovereign life, in those who grasp with both hands this wildly extravagant life-gift, this grand setting-everything-right, that the one man Jesus Christ provides? -Romans 5:17
Still counting 1000 gifts…won’t you join me?
962. Donuts dangling from our tree963. Maggie’s shriek of joy when she discovers the empty tomb in our grace garden
964. Little brother plucking breakfast from the tree for big brother
965. The Risen Christ! Crazy Love
966. Easter dinner on Mom and Dad’s sunporch.
967. Backyard baseball with Grandma and Grandpa.. a flash back to childhood joy!
968. A pink plastic egg peeking out from behind the weeds. Her happy dance when she sees it.
969. A husband who laughs with me in all this chaos.
970. The lingering scent of baby shampoo at the end of a muddy day.
Linking with these beautiful grace seekers today…ann for 1000 gifts, l.l. for on, in, and around mondays, laura for playdates with god and jen for soli deo gloria
Love your heart, crazy woman. 🙂
Love your heart, crazy woman. 🙂
Alicia, very fun to hear your heart for the Lord and for your lil people! I’m glad to “meet” you as I popped over from Jen’s.
I so, so, so loved this!!! How fun and inspiring! I wouldn’t mind being your neighbor at all 🙂
What a fantastic idea Alicia! So glad I found your site! Blessings, Mary
oh, Alicia, i loved this: “When His body, beaten and bruised was pulled from that tree, everything we need for abundant life dangled in its place.”
and lingering scent of baby shampoo….love your heart. thank you for all your kind words. blessings!
You are so creative…what a great idea!
Thanks for laughing out loud with me, friends! I wish you were all my neighbors. Just imagine those trees we could decorate next Easter.. a whole street lined with donut-strung branches 🙂
What an awesome tradition. Brought tears to my eyes picturing arms raised in praise.
Crazy ideas are the best kind of ideas. You should come hang out in my neighborhood. We need a little spice!
Sweet pics.
I can’t hardly stand it….I’m giddy with excitement to do this with my kiddos…I don’t think I can wait a year…it’s going to have to be a devotional! Love it…you “crazy momma!”. 🙂
love it, so very special! A few of our neighbors think we are crazy as well.LOL
I love this…love being crazy in love with Jesus and not being afraid to show it!
What fun. Your craziness will be remembered by your kids forever with a smile of endearment. Very creative.
wow. now that is a tradition with meaning- and one that will spark Jesus-conversation with neighbors! awesome. i love it.