I’ve been thinking a lot about Easter this week, about how complicated it can feel after leaving behind high-demand religion; when you're caught between old memories and new meaning, trying to figure out what holidays like this even mean anymore.

Having once believed that Easter was about dying to yourself, laying everything at the foot of the cross, about self-sacrifice and surrender; I wonder if it would it feel helpful to rethink this holiday through a new lens?

What if Easter became your resurrection weekend?

What if, instead of “He has risen,” the message echoing in your bones is now: I have risen.

Because you have. You’ve risen from the ashes of an old story. You’ve shed beliefs that told you your:

• desires were dangerous
• voice was too loud
• intuition couldn’t be trusted

You’ve stepped out of a life that kept you small and into one where you're finally reclaiming your power, your joy, your agency. That’s no small thing.

You’re not dying to self anymore—you’re coming home to her.

So if this weekend feels tender or confusing, I want you to know: you get to rewrite and reclaim it. Easter doesn't belong to the version of you who sat quietly in church pews, trying to contort herself into becoming holy. It belongs to this version of you—the one who is learning to rise.

And in honor of that, I wanted to share my favorite Easter recipe I've affectionately named "I Have Risen" bread. It’s soft, rich, slightly sweet… and just like you, it rises beautifully when given warmth and time.

I Have Risen Bread

A sweet, soft challah to honor your rising.

Ingredients

• 1 cup warm water (110°F)
• 2¼ tsp active dry yeast
• 1 tsp sugar
• ¼ cup honey
• ½ cup vegetable oil
• 2 large eggs
• 4 cups all-purpose flour
• ½ tsp salt
• 1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
• Sesame seeds (optional)

Instructions

1. Bloom the yeast: In a large bowl, whisk together warm water, yeast, and sugar. Let sit for 5–10 minutes until foamy.

2. Mix the dough: Add oil, eggs, honey, flour, and salt. Mix with a wooden spoon or dough hook until a shaggy dough forms.

🧺 While adding your ingredients, think about what it has taken you to get to this place in life. Think about:

• What have been the "ingredients" of my healing journey so far?
• What have I added, and what have I chosen to leave behind?
• What do I want to invite in next?

3. Knead: Knead the dough in the bowl or on a floured surface for 8–10 minutes (or 5–6 min with a mixer) until smooth and elastic. Add flour as needed to prevent sticking.

👊🏻 As you mix and knead the dough, imagine infusing your anger and sadness into this bread. This is the work of tending, of getting your hands in it, of showing up to what’s messy and real. Think about:

• Where am I holding unexpressed grief, anger or tenderness?

4. First rise: Place the dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover, and let rise in a warm place for 1 hour, or until doubled in size.

👐🏽 As the dough is rising, think about how and where you, too, are rising in your life. Think about:

• What in me is ready to rise, if I stop trying to manage or control it?

• What would it feel like to trust the timing of my becoming?

5. Shape: Punch down the dough. Divide into 8 even pieces. Roll each piece into a long rope (approx 14 in long).

Cut off 2 inches of the rope and set aside. Begin by shaping the dough into a U shape. Cross over at the top, then twist again. Take the extra dough that you cut off, roll it into a small ball and place into the open spot (this will be its tail).

🥨As you braid the dough, visualize weaving your own life story into it. Think about:

• What are the threads of my story that I am weaving together now?

• What used to feel separate or broken that I can begin to integrate?

6. Second rise: Place bunnies a parchment-lined baking sheet. Cover with a towel and let rise again for 15 minutes.

7. Egg wash & bake: Preheat oven to 375°F. Brush the dough with beaten egg and lightly top with seasame seeds (optional). Bake for 20–25 minutes, or until deep golden brown and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped.

🔥As you bake the bread, reflect on the warmth you are creating within yourself. Think about:

• How can I meet myself with more compassion as I unlearn my old religious rules?

8. Cool: Let rest on a wire rack for at least 5 minutes before eating (if you can wait!).

So let this be your invitation this weekend to make some bread, cry if you need to, get angry, bless your own body, and say out loud:

I have risen, indeed!

If this weekend brings up more than you expected, or if you’re looking for words to anchor you, we’ve got this blog post that might feel like a soft place to land. You can find it here.

With you in all of it🐰