Why We Need An Easter Tree
He is feeling big like Daddy when I pass him the trimming shears and point to a limb I’m eyeing for our Easter tree.
He studies the branch.
Touches the tips and runs his petite fingers along the cold bark.
Then squeezes the overgrown scissors with all his might.
He makes a small dent in the smooth brown and gathers his will with a deep deliberate breath. He bites his pale pink lip.
Exhales in a long slow grunt and leans hard with determination.
The limb falls limp in his hand as his closed eyes pop open in thrilled surprise.
He waves the stick in triumph and does a five-year-old jig.
I point out another perfect branch, and he nods seriously and tackles the task again.
My arms are nearly full of twigs when his sister crosses the yard in curiosity.
She watches her brother’s toil and begs for a turn with the big scissors.
Little man, now the expert, extends unsolicited advice.
Just squeeze harder.
Don’t wobble.
Close your eyes. That always makes me stronger.
They take turns clipping branches as the sun sinks low.
The evening sky darkens like an orange and purple bruise casting shadows across the naked trees.
And I think of His naked body bruised and broken for me on a tree that I don’t want to ever forget.
This year I want to do more than just linger in Calvary’s shadow for a moment on Good Friday.
This year I want to follow my Lord to the cross.
I want to be covered in His dust so I might remember that it is dust from which I come.
I want to be covered in His dust so I might remember that it is dust from which I come.
I want to walk as close as His shadow so I might remember beyond a shadow of a doubt those nails He took for me. Heaven’s Hero hung on a tree for a dust dweller.
Dusk’s bruise will soon be replaced with moonlight’s murky hues and I know that dinner must be served and dishes cleaned and bedtime stories read.
Josh blows warm breath on his frozen fingers and asks me to go find his mittens.
“I think we’ve got all we need,” I say as I gather up the loosed limbs and invite my industrious ones to head to the warm house.Back in the kitchen, we spread the sticks on the counter, pick our favorites, and arrange them in a vase.
“So if we water these sticks will they grow into a new tree?” Josh strokes the gray limbs cut by his own hands.
“No, honey,” I remind my littlest boy, “These branches can’t grow anymore now that they’ve been cut from the tree.”
His sister’s eyes grow solemn. Sad. She fingers the bumpy wood as if apologizing for her part in the clipping and cutting.
“This Easter tree will help us remember…” I say in justification of our snipping.
“Remember what?” Josh asks.“That we were like those limbs once. Snipped by sin and cut off from God.”
I plug in the glue gun and beginning attaching our pastel plastic Easter eggs to stands of light blue yarn.
Hannah watches as I tie splashes of color to the spiky twigs. She cocks her blonde head and ponders our simple creation.
Suddenly she smiles, this tender one of mine, and says,“When you really think about it, it’s kind of funny…
Those soldiers thought they needed nails to stick Jesus to the cross.
But those nails really just stuck us all back onto God’s family tree.”
Funny. Or amazing. Or just plain grace.
The Overflow: I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. –John 15:5-8
Still Counting to 1000 Gifts… You can, too!
863. My baby twirling in front of the dressing room mirror, pleased with what she sees.
864. Big brother, sweaty and limping from the basketball game he just played, carrying little sister on his back.
865. Our Easter tree covered with cheerful plastic eggs.
866. Jesus hanging on Calvary’s tree for me.
867. Clinging to the vine and finding He holds.
The Overflow: I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. –John 15:5-8
Still Counting to 1000 Gifts… You can, too!
863. My baby twirling in front of the dressing room mirror, pleased with what she sees.864. Big brother, sweaty and limping from the basketball game he just played, carrying little sister on his back.
865. Our Easter tree covered with cheerful plastic eggs.
866. Jesus hanging on Calvary’s tree for me.
867. Clinging to the vine and finding He holds.
Joining up today with Ann, Laura, 
the SDGS crew,
Seedlings in the Stone, and
The Better Mom
This was such a blessing to me. What big truths your children were taught in preparation for the celebration of our Savior. You were right–you NEED an Easter tree.
Alicia,
your story is inspiration for those of us lagging behind on Lent. and it’s so true–what Ann writes–that a failing Lent is really a successful one–if in our trying, we recognize who it is we so desperately need. this is my first year doing Lent…it’s slow-going–i had such dreams… thank you for this encouragement–your daughter’s sweet conviction made my day. thank you so much for visiting my place and for your kind words there–and your sweet story–i left a reply for you. blessings, new friend!
Praying for all of you, friends, as we keep struggling our way through this Lenten journey. Love your reminder of Anne’s words, Nacole. And I agree, Laura, that branch is perfect 🙂 So perfect that tonight I caught my littlest one licking it like a lollipop. Add that to reason #77 for having an Easter tree this year 🙂 Hope that pushes you even more, Amy 🙂 If you haven’t chosen your branch yet, go for the flavored kind!
A sweet way to remember our Lord and invite the little ones in to this great story. Yes, the branch is PERFECT.
Alicia,
This is a tradition I keep saying that I want to start with my kids, but just don’t. Thanks for giving me the push to make it happen.
I just shared it on Google+.
What a wonderful thing to do as a family. Creating that Easter tree and remembering what it is all about. #866… yes.
#867 is my favorite! What a beautiful thought!
Alicia, how inspired and inspiring was this! The way you wove a present moment with a past pivotal event, the crucifixion, used nature’s offerings to teach children a spiritual reality… and the way John 15: 5-8 tied it all together. And wow, your young daughter’s amazing insight… simply amazing! Meet your newest follower on GFC. ~ Blessings from NC
Oh…children’s insights are the best. I often learn more from them. her comment about the Roman soldiers and how those nails used to keep Jesus on the cross really just put us back on God’s tree…I am teary as I type that!! I love the analogy of cutting those branches of the tree as we were cut off from God by sin. Praise to Him that we can be nailed back. Thank you for sharing this! -Much love and blessings to you this week blog friend. 🙂
Oh, Sherri,
You land on my gift list all the time! Can’t wait for the phone call that tells me number six has arrived. Praying for you.
Dionne,
I think sometimes God speaks clearest through the littlest ones, don’t you? Blessings to you as well in the week ahead.
I love your last of 1000 blessings! 🙂
Your definitely one of mine!
This s a eautiful post…lesson!
Thanks for sharing!