I awoke Easter morning to my children piling in my bed and excitedly requesting, "Sing the song! Sing the song!" The family snuggled together while I sang in my best, groggy morning voice He is Risen. There is something special and powerful about Easter morning. The emotions it conjures up in me rivals the magic of Christmas morn. HE IS RISEN. But it always wasn't so for me. Its not that as a child I didn't understand what Easter was. My parents made sure that we did by the way they conducted our family devotional on Easter and the way they referenced the holiday throughout the year. But the source of excitement for me as a child came from the anticipation of the events surrounding Easter such as that wonderful Easter basket filled with all sorts of wonderful candies and of course the chocolate bunny. Would it be solid this year? Would it have crispies in it? Other sweet childish questions would occupy my mind: When would our mother let us color the eggs? Would mine be the most unique? Could I beat my brother to find the most eggs? Would I get a new dress the year? What makes that Easter Lilli smell so beautifully? Yet, in the back of my mind Christ was there and would would come to the front when my mind would slow down enough to think about him.
When did the excitement for the Christ side of Easter come? I think maybe on my mission it started, yet it came to full fruition while I was in the hospital on bed rest with Zayne. I decided earlier that week to have my own personal Easter service since I would be alone that morning and I still wanted to remember the sacredness of the day. I layed out my tools the night before, my scriptures. Upon awaking the next morning I sang He is Risen, then Christ the Lord is Risen Today. Singing these hymns made me feel so joyful I sung them several times. After singing I read my favorite chapters about resurrection, I Corinthians 15, "Death, where is thy sting, grave where is thy victory?" and Alma 40. I felt a powerful witness to the reality of Christ's resurrection, the reality of every one's resurrection, my family's resurrection as well as my own. Feeling and knowing the reality of the resurrection makes me feel so excited. I am excited to one day hopefully see Our Risen Savior. I am excited to see loved ones who have passed on. I am excited to have a perfect and immortal body. I become even more excited each time another year and new ailments are added to my body. What a truly amazing gift each of us have been given.
That was a special Easter morning I spent alone in an hospital room, and so has each Easter morning been since then, even with children waking me up early happily squealing, "Sing the song! Sing the song!"
The next day we drove to the top of the Smokies, took pictures of cascades, waterfalls, and the 6 foot Rhododendrons and of course enjoyed the view of the misty peaks. Can I call them peaks after living in the Rockies? On the way down we picked up some hitch hikers who were trekking the Appalachian trail from Georgia to Maine and needed to resupply in town. They got pelted in the storm. In the lowlands we drove along some rivers. While sitting on some rocks and gazing at the river we saw a river otter scamper across a rock on the opposite bank, then disappear into the water, never to resurface to our sight. That was the highlight of the day. Joshi and Zayne are somewhat infatuated with otters because of the characters in the Redwall book series. They had just purchased stuffed animal otters in the gift shop and were holding them at the time of the sighting. I failed to mention that Joshi, the biggest otter fiend, missed the excitement because she did not want to get out of the car. I felt bad for her. She talks like the otters in the books. She writes her own tales about otters. Maybe we'll see another in Oregeon. Our Smokies' tour ended in The Cove where the park preserved part of a mountain settlement after they kicked the settlers out. It was on to Nashville after that. Joshi and Zayne were dying to see Annelise.
The morning after the storm I had planned to go to the Nashville Temple. I called ahead to make sure that they were open. They were but, the 8 am session was cancelled. Another sister and I did sealings with the temple workers until the 10 am session where it was just me, another guy and the temple workers. I mention this only because it truly was a unique experience. The Nashville temple is one of those small temples, 10, 000 sq ft, no laundry, everything is very simple. With the smallness of the building, me being one of two patrons, the whole experience was very intimate and personal. Also, when else can you hang out and chat with the temple president and his wife?
Outside the Grande Ole Oprey people were dressed up like the original hosts. Joshi wondered why one lady had a tag hanging off her hat. My children not knowing who Pearl was made me feel old. It was like the first time they saw an electric type writer and did not know what it was. The Grande Old Oprey's show was fantastic. Some golden oldies performed as well as new favorites. Joshi and Zayne's favorite performances were Lee Greenwood's "Proud To Be an American, " some fun blue grass ditties, and the energetic performance of the Charlie Daniel's Band. When they played "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" the crowd went ecstatic as did Joshi and Zayne. Rosin dust and bow strings were flying through the air as Charlie fervently attacked his fiddle. Yee-haw! Back at the house, Annelise made the night even better when she got out her guitar and sang the children to sleep. 
We made it home Sunday night, giving us plenty of time to prepare for homeschool on the morrow. I must admit that I prefer homeschooling on the road.
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