Easter has a way of calling a timeout.
If one lets it, it can be an intentional pause in the noise, the daily grind, and the work. In public life it can be a pause in the debates and the constant churn of politics, if one lets it. This weekend, after completing the political (straight) roundtable at 6 pm Friday, I took that pause. Starting off at Coleman’s for dinner with Tom, multiple times in the quiet spaces over the weekend, I was reminded of something simple but powerful, just how blessed I truly am.
It can be so easy to get caught up in the urgency of everything else. The headlines, the deadlines, the issues that demand attention and energy. I found this Easter invited a reflection. I let it gently nudge me to step back and take inventory, not of my problems but of my blessings.
It started staring across a wooden booth at a man with whom I have spent the majority of my life. Thirty-three years together becomes harder and harder to believe for someone still trying to cling to claiming thirty-nine. I have been blessed to build a life and family with this guy. He is God’s reward for some mistakes and hard lessons.
My mom has long been the heartbeat of our family. Her presence brings a sense of comfort that never fades, no matter how old we get. Even though we no longer gather at our childhood home, this is always a special holiday with my mom.
Then there’s my dad. Now a resident of Good Shepherd Nursing Home, his journey has not been an easy one. Following his accident, twenty-six years ago, there were so many unknowns, so many questions about what the future would hold. Yet here we are, more than two decades later, and he is still with us. Still part of our lives. Still, he is someone we can visit, talk to, and love in person.
This past weekend also reminded me how quickly life moves, and how important it is to hold tight to the moments we get.
Our son, now living in Chicago, is building a life of his own. As parents, we prepare for that day, but it does not make the distance any easier. That is why seeing him last weekend meant so much. Time together becomes more intentional, more meaningful. This time, it was not just about catching up, it was about seeing Taylor’s hometown and seeing where they will be married.
Taylor, his fiancé, is exactly the kind of person you hope your child finds. Kind, intelligent, grounded, and clearly someone who makes him happy. Watching them together, you can’t help but feel grateful, not just for who she is, but for what their future represents. The addition of Taylor to our family is something we celebrate wholeheartedly, and we could not have asked for better in-laws for our son either. Rich and Ann have welcomed Seth and have provided him the love and support that warms my heart. This union is another branch growing on our family tree, another reason to gather, to laugh, to look forward to what is yet to come.
Then there are our daughters, Alexis and Payton. Having both of them home at the same time is such a wonderful thing. There is an energy that fills the house when everyone is under one roof, with the conversations overlapping, laughter coming from different rooms, and the simple comfort of togetherness. This Easter, that feeling was even bigger, as their boyfriends joined us for church. Sitting across a couple pews, it struck me how much our family has grown and evolved, and how fortunate we are to be able to share these moments not just with each other, but with the people our children care about.
There is something special about seeing your children build lives that include others. We have been blessed with people who support them, stand beside them, and are becoming part of our extended family. It is a reminder that love doesn’t divide; it multiplies.
We also had the chance to spend time with my brother Steve and his family. Dinner together, filled with conversation and connection, felt like a return to something essential. No agendas, no distractions, just family gathered around a table, sharing stories and enjoying each other’s company. Those are the moments that stay with you long after the plates are cleared.
Maybe one of the most underrated blessings of all, but is ever-present in my mind and prayers is getting everyone home safely.
In a world that often feels uncertain, where so much is out of our control, there is deep peace in knowing that the people you love have made it back to their homes, their routines, their lives. It’s a quiet kind of gratitude, but a powerful one.
This Easter weekend didn’t solve any policy debates or any other issues. The emails still waited. The issues are still there. But for a brief, intentional moment, none of that mattered as much as the people around me.
Taking a break from your regular life isn’t about ignoring responsibility. It is about remembering perspective. It is about grounding yourself in what truly matters so that when you return to the work, you do so with clarity, purpose, and a full heart.
Easter reminds us of renewal, of hope, of the promise that even after the hardest seasons, there is light ahead. For me, that message came not just in the sermon, but in the faces around our dinner tables, the voices filling our home, and the quiet knowledge that, despite everything, we are blessed beyond measure.
Sometimes, the most important thing we can do is simply stop long enough to count those blessings.
