One day when I was about 9 or 10, our family woke up to find that someone had broken into my parent’s Cadillac Eldorado and pelted the beautiful interior with eggs. My brothers and I took guesses as to which of our knucklehead neighbors it might have been. Several names came up, but we never did find out for sure who did it.

Speaking of eggs, when I was a kid, Easter meant looking for colored eggs in our yard. We didn’t always find them all and sometimes days, weeks or even months later, we would see them in a bush and their nice pastel color couldn’t make up for the sewer-smell emanating from them. Real eggs; other than throw them inside Cadillacs, what would a 10 year old do with real eggs? Easter really was on the low end of holidays as far as I was concerned. Halloween was great, Christmas awesome and even Thanksgiving at least had lots of turkey and gravy, but Easter? I didn’t get the point.

Next week, when we are at the Expo center for our Easter service, there will be an Easter egg hunt immediately after our church service. We hope you will invite families with kids to come. Maybe those families will come for the Easter egg hunt, but find themselves immersed in something more. I would hope that next week our regular church folk will look for any new faces and let them know they are welcome in our house. I hope they find that Easter means more than what they think it is. I hope they see that God loves them and we do too.

If you own a Caddy, we’ll have no real eggs, I promise.