Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Seeing The Light

Gen. 1:4 “And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.”

Not all light is man-made.

Last night, as the fan churned behind me, we were gearing up for movie time; an enjoyable daily event for us. As we get everything ready, hook up the HDMI cable and watch Netflix on the television and Adam hunkered down in his room on his computer ready to game the night away; we were ready for our quiet evening. Quiet evening amid sounds mind you.

Perched on the sofa like birds on a wire, we were ready for the movie. We sat for about 15 minutes of the movie before we heard a sizzle sound, followed by a BOOM, the house trembled and the lights and sounds of the day came to an abrupt halt. Clocks stopped telling us time, computers stopped humming and the refrigerator sat silent as a tomb.

Running (as fast as my wobbly legs allowed) to the front door then to the back door, hobbling down the steps to, thankfully, seeing no fire. One neighbor was already in his jeep (he lives two houses over) and came to our house asking us what we saw and heard. When I said a sizzle and a boom he right away said the substation and went on to call the electric company.

From Google: A substation is a part of an electrical generation, transmission, and distribution system. Substations transform voltage from high to low, or the reverse, or perform any of several other important functions.

Our neighbor came back to tell us he had called the electric company and also told our other neighbor, who came to hear the news, that no electricity had enveloped our little county. It would be hours or days depending on the problem before electricity was restored. The pump to the well runs on electricity so that also means no water.

Before the daylight blinked away we hustled in the shadows of the house to gather the bottled water and candles. We had not used the kerosene lamps since we’ve been here in Nebraska, but the kerosene was easily found in the darkened corner of the shed.

We hurriedly gathered candles, filled the beautiful hurricane kerosene lamp, pulled out the flashlights and hunkered down by candlelight wondering what to do as darkness fell over the house and silence filled the air. The electric guys appeared on the scene and got to work almost immediately. There was hope that this darkness would be short lived.

My husband and son, computer nerds, needed their gadgets while I was babbling on and on saying this must be what Laura Ingalls lived like. As I prayed and joked in the stillness of the house my son asked, “So what did they do?”

“They prayed! Pa played the fiddle and they found things to do like read.”

I went on to say, “I am an optimist and there is something positive in all this.”

Adam said jokingly, “What’s your positive spin on this, Sherlock?”

“Well this is God’s way of showing us to appreciate what we have in the heart of the darkness. We will be indebted to the light and gadgets in a new way. We’ll see light in the darkness.”

I know his eyes rolled and Steven sat on the sofa contemplating what Sage Joni had spoken. In the quiet you hear well. As Adam struggled to find the toilet in the dark (that he couldn’t flush by the way) Steven sat on the sofa embracing the dark that once belonged to him. After being blind for two and a half years, he had the upper hand in this blackened house. I sat at the kitchen table and Adam joined me.

Out of the silence came a choir of angels that God sent, okay that was over dramatizing. Out of the candlelit night the sound of the saxophone began piping out Amazing Grace. (It’s not a fiddle but I felt like Pa Ingalls was here.)

After 25 minutes and no musical accompaniment from the buzzing computer, the house fell silent again, the sax stopped. The electricity went out about 6:45 and the darkness swept over the house by 7:30 and here it was almost 8:30 p.m and we were still sane.

“CARDS!” I bellowed out in the peaceful night.

Adam rose to the occasion, went to the basement with his penlight and made it back with a very new deck of cards. We gathered at the table lit by a kerosene lamp and some candles and we played cards.

By ten thirty the refrigerator had moaned back into existence. Nothing else lit up because we hadn’t had any lights on when the power went out. We played on. My neighbor drove by the house and saw us through the window playing cards by candlelight. She stopped her car, came up the path and knocked on the door; happily she exclaimed, “The electric is on.”

Adam said, “Yeah we know.”  She sounded kind of surprised as she said, “And you’re still playing cards by candlelight? COOL!” Adam chuckled, we chuckled and we continued to play, by candlelight, until 11 p.m. at which time I won my version of 500 Rummy!

Something happened in the total vacuum of darkness. We saw the light. It had been there all the time waiting for us to tap into it and as we sat listening to music on a battery operated radio and playing cards by candlelight, we were embracing being together and sharing our time as a family.

I said afterward to Adam, “That was fun. I really enjoyed myself.”

He smiled and said, “Yeah, me too.”

With the light of a new day, I thanked the Lord for showing me the way. 
~ Amen!

Through the darkness, we saw the light.

Acts 26:13 At midday, O king, I saw in the way a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me and them which journeyed with me.

No comments: