style="font-size:15px;"> Or wait...maybe that’s because perfection is an unattainable goal?
In A Family for Easter, Fiona struggles with her size, and her challenge is exacerbated by her mother’s criticism. Because she feels so imperfect, she isn’t open to receiving the love Eduardo offers. It takes caring friends and the realization that she’s passing her own body-image issues down to her daughter to make her see that she’s “fearfully and wonderfully made,” God’s perfect creation.
As you put on your Easter finery this year, my prayer is that you see yourself as God’s good creation, ready to focus on His joyous resurrection.
Happy Easter!
Lee
To my dad, because we always visited
his family at Easter, and because I know
he’s singing in the heavenly choir.
Contents
Fiona Farmingham clutched the edge of Chez La Ferme’s elegant tablecloth and wished she were home on the couch with her kids, eating popcorn and watching movies. Wearing sweats and slippers rather than heels and a dress and shapewear.
Based on tonight, at least, dating was way overrated.
“You should come see me in Cleveland,” Henry said loudly, forking braised lamb shank into his mouth. “We have restaurants that would put this place to shame. Really fancy.”
She forced her face into something resembling a smile and pushed her roasted vegetables around her plate, not daring to look around at all the Rescue River customers and waitstaff Henry had probably just offended.
A throat cleared a couple of tables away, and she glanced up. A soccer-dad friend, Eduardo Delgado, was looking over his date’s shoulder, smiling at Fiona with what looked like sympathy.
Her tight shoulders relaxed a little. Eduardo’s warm, friendly face reminded her of school parent nights and carpools and kids’ league games. Her normal life.
She was a little surprised to see Eduardo, a single parent who worked as a groundsman at Hinton Enterprises, dining at their small Ohio town’s only upscale restaurant. He never even bought himself nachos or a hot dog at the school concession stand, always relying on a cooler from home for himself and his two kids instead. She’d thought that meant he was economizing, but maybe he was just into eating healthy.
“Did you hear me?” Henry scooted his chair closer. “I have a nice big house. Six bedrooms and three-and-a-half bathrooms. You should come visit!”
Like that was going to happen. She channeled her society-perfect mother, who could out-polite the Queen of England, even managing a small smile. “With my kids, it’s hard for me to get away.”
“Yeah, four kids, that’s a lot!” Henry shook his head and attacked his spring pea risotto with vigor. She turned her chair half away and pretended to hear a sound from the evening bag she hadn’t used since attending society events with her late husband three years ago. She pulled out her cell phone and studied its blank screen. “Henry, I’m so sorry, but I think my kids need me.” Not a lie; kids always needed their parents, hers in particular. Right now, though, it was she who needed her kids.
“I thought you said you had a sitter. I was hoping we could spend more time together.”
