So instead of loud and chaotic and outdoorsy, it was small and quiet and complete with an indoor Easter Egg hunt.
And it was still good.
Not just because we were safe and healthy and provided for. Nor because of the greater joy of remembering an empty tomb and a risen King, though that certainly is enough.
But we also got to remember the power and value of an unexpected storm: It focuses and refines and distills what is truly important. Like this:
Friends had to evacuate their home last summer as a forest fire threatened to burn it to the ground. They didn't grab tupperware or appliances or even their very favorite dress. The fire focused them on what was important: family photos, heirloom mementos, crucial documents.
Other friends recently went through a harrowing medical situation. In it, they didn't worry about what they wore or how they looked. . .they treasured time together with the ones they loved.
My older brother is soon moving to Hawaii. Not a negative storm, by any means, but he does have to sift through decades of mainland life to determine what is worth paying to ship to their new home.
So I was okay with our 'ruined' Easter. In fact, I embraced it. I love knowing that a God who loved me enough to die for me also loves me enough to not let me get too mired in the stuff and fluff of inconsequential life. Storms rub off the callouses and frippery and reveal what's truly important.
And I want that.
So, let it snow!