A Rainy Easter

I wrote this post several days ago and scheduled it to post today. As I write this, on Friday, I don’t know if it’s going to rain on Sunday or not. We shall see.

All week, I’ve been watching the weather forecast for Sunday. I try to keep an eye on the weather normally, so I can anticipate days that won’t allow a mid-afternoon retreat into the sunshine of the yard for Leah and me. Sunday is different, though. Being Easter, I have wanted it to be sunny. It’s Leah’s first “aware” Easter, and I want her to be able to hunt for brightly-colored eggs in her grandparents’ yards and pose for pictures next to the camellias and azaleas.

And even if the day didn’t have so many things I want for Leah, it’s Easter. And it should be sunny. It should be bright and clear and full of life.

It’s Easter, and that’s what Easter is.

As I’ve reflected on it, though, and as the weather guys have wavered back and forth, back and forth on whether it will be a pretty day or not, I’ve come to a realization.

There’s something beautiful and poetic about a rainy Easter.

See, it seems like it should be sunny. Scouring a yard for eggs is a lot harder if you have an umbrella, and your new dress will get all wet if you pose next to drippy flowers. Easter is a spring holiday, and it should be full of the beautiful and vibrant parts of the season.

It seems that way.

And yet……there’s something poetic about a rainy Easter.

Easter. Resurrection Day. A day of life and hope and promise. A day of restored optimism and unbridled faith.

Dampened by rain, it’s still Easter. There’s still life. There’s still a Savior who took on a death that was meant for us, and who returned to show us that He has conquered it all. The debt has still been paid, and we still live because He died. He still lives.

A rainy Easter is a reminder somehow that things are not always as they seem. Even when things are gray and bleak and disappointing, there is hope. Even when plans are thwarted, there is life. Even when the world is ugly and dreary, something beautiful is in the making. Even when life and everything around us says, “The End,” our God is just beginning our story.

Maybe it’s just me, but I think that’s really beautiful. And yes, I’ll be disappointed if the kids have to hunt for eggs in the house and if all of the traditional Easter pictures are taken in the living room….but I kind of hope it rains, in a way. I like visible illustrations of something God’s teaching me…something I can carry with me.

For the kids, though….I hope it’s sunny.