Most Easters in my memory are filled with sunny skies, the scent of lilies, and brunches surrounded by spring breezes. I always thought it was fitting to have sunshine pouring down on a day symbolizing hope and new life; just as an overcast day would sober the spirit on Good Friday.
But this Easter we drove to church under cloudy skies, chill winds and rain spattering our windshield. We had planned to pour out of the van singing songs and ringing bells but instead we had to hurry inside after unloading by the church entrance. It was different and somewhat unsettling for my spirit; I struggled to focus on the main point of the day as I wondered if everyone was prepared for the change in weather. But isn’t that how it is?
This Easter I know of several friends carrying heavy heart loads. I have some burdens of my own. And truth be told, rarely is there an ideal time to enter into our faith. Just today I spent the bulk of the service out in the lobby soothing the baby to sleep and I wasn’t the only mom out there. The fact is that our faith is user friendly. It can withstand every day wear and tear as well as the unexpected: the trials and tragedies of a sin-marred world.
The rain today didn’t rewrite history: the cross is still empty and the tomb barren. We can rejoice in life-giving hope even as we mourn or fall in a crumpled, exhausted heap at our Savior’s feet. Ours is a living joy on rainy Easters and sunny ones.