I’m the youngest of my family. When it comes to hosting events, I have many in my extended family who outrank me in age and experience. My sister, for example, will often host thirty to forty people for a four-course dinner, and she seems to pull it off single-handedly with ease(!)

When restrictions eased this spring, a handful of days until Easter, I called my sister and meekly asked, “What are you doing for Easter?” She replied, “Nothing.” I silently thought, “What!? Are you kidding me?” She was done with the big dinners, she said. So, I called my cousin. Nothing happening there either. It seemed like the “Twilight Zone” theme should be playing at this point. 

It felt weird and wrong and almost sacrilegious to not to gather on such an important occasion as Easter! Then I heard a little voice that said, “You do it.” Oh, boy. You talkin’ to me, the baby of the family? Hosting dinner for eight or ten or who knows how many? Why not host a Presidential Dinner and invite Miss Manners and Julia Child over at the same time? I envisioned disaster. 

The little voice stopped the spin of my mad spiral and said, “Let everyone share in the burden.” I had never thought of that! So, I invited everyone to my house for Easter dinner, and assigned them a dish. I would make the ham and veggies and bread. They could bring the rest. I insisted that this dinner be simple and the dress code casual. And, you know what? Everyone was grateful. On Easter, they showed up in casual attire, dishes in hand. I think I even heard a collective sigh of relief. 

That evening, the wine flowed almost as much as the laughter. And... the dip was spilled on the rug. And... the ham came out a little dry because we had forgotten about it. And... we had brownies and ice cream for dessert! And... the dog took his share off of the counter when we weren’t looking. It was mayhem. It was heaven. It was communion without etiquette or expectations. 

After dinner, my son convinced everyone, even the sixty-somethings, to play Wii Sports. We rolled in laughter at our attempts to play virtual tennis and frisbee golf. It was a blur of arms flailing, bodies bumping, sweat beading, and cheeks flushing. We collapsed into a puppy pile on the couch when the championships were over. The overall champion was my cousin Lance. But, the real champion of that evening, and all the ones to come, I suspect, is the One who had risen that very day. I imagine He was smiling at His joyful, boisterous, messy children.

We came to Easter dinner as we truly are: God’s children. That evening, through His grace, we rediscovered our innocence and reclaimed our goodness. We experienced true communion and, I’d like to think, unconditional love. I tell you; we just might have gotten a glimpse of the kingdom of heaven that night.

God bless you!

Kimberly