It Wasn’t Just a Cross—It Was a Comeback

How the darkest day in history lit the path home for all of us (yes, even you)

The Wonder Years and the Weight of the Cross

When I was a kid, Easter was nothing short of magical.

A few nights before the big day, we’d dye eggs—those vibrant pastel ovals that made your fingers smell like vinegar and victory. On Easter morning, my sister and I would bolt out of bed to hunt for the hidden treasures—both real eggs and the plastic ones fi…