Here in Israel, when it’s a holiday, everyone knows it—everyone celebrates. But this year has been different with such conflict all around us.

While there’s more noise outside—between the sirens and other signs of strife—our daily lives have become quieter. Many of the children’s in-person lessons have been canceled for safety’s sake. Our bigger holiday gatherings are pared down. My family and I have moved from one region to another seeking refuge.

When I think about this year’s Seder dinner, I can’t say with certainty what it will look like. Will we be able to pick up our regular food items? How many of our friends will be safe enough to come?

We will choose life in its fullness, in all the little ways we can.

The children feel it too. They may not be able to put into words the stress that they live under—but I can see in their faces that they wish it could end.

So we do our best to provide some normalcy for them. We bring their musical instruments when we move from one home to another. We occupy them by experimenting in the kitchen or meeting their cousins in a cafe. We try to make a way for them to choose life in its fullness, in all the little ways that we can.

Passover is all about finding our way—or rather, it’s about remembering how God made a way when there was no way. We remember how we passed through the waters in Egypt. And for my family and me, we remember how Jesus promised an ultimate exodus leading to resurrection and the renewal of all things in him. He has also made a way when there was no way.

So, though I don’t know what each day will look like, I am experiencing his daily provisions—from the moments that make my family smile to the peace that sits beside us even when things are scary. From the “just us” family time we had at a lonely playground to the prayers we will pray at our table tonight for all the people of this region.

On the outside, Passover may not look like it usually does. But I don’t think that will make our celebration any less tangible. It might be even more so.

We remember the story of how God made a way—and, when we keep watching for what he will do next, we are living in the story.