Where's the Light?

We don't often stop to think about the light that brightens our days. We take it for granted, expecting it as our right. After all, the sun comes up each morning and gives light even on the cloudiest of days. The moon shines clearly from many nighttime skies, and the stars twinkle brightly even when the moon is absent. And on those dark, cloudy nights, we still have street lights and headlights outside, and plenty of electric lights in our homes and businesses. 

I woke up suddenly around 3:00 a.m. yesterday. The stillness was startling; even with the wind rattling the windows, I was aware of the complete absence of normal inside, background murmurings. The darkness was all-encompassing--no night lights glowing, no street lights casting their faint light through our shaded windows. When I picked up my phone to check the time, it lit up immediately, providing the comforting light we've all come to expect. That's when I realized that we were in the midst of a power outage.

I rolled over and went back to sleep, confident that the electricity would be restored within the hour, as it usually is whenever our electrical service is interrupted by a passing storm. Except this time, when I woke up again at 6:15, the power was still off, and the house was getting cold.

Bill headed to his office to turn on the gas-powered generators that make it possible for his business to keep on running even when electricity fails us. I waited for the inevitable text that cancelled church services for the morning. We could have gotten by with just piano accompaniment, I suppose, and Pastor Gary can speak loudly enough to do without a mike, but we really needed some light and heat and, besides, the streets were a slushy mess, the wind was blowing a gale, and visibility was said to be less than 20 feet. We were in the midst of full-blown, April blizzard.

As I sat down at the kitchen island for breakfast, I glanced out the window and noticed an ice-encased power line sagging down in my field of vision, where it has never before appeared. That explained why the power was out, and my phone confirmed it: the horrific wind, in combination with the freezing mix of rain and snow, had resulted in hundreds of downed power lines and poles throughout the area. As the day wore on, officials were estimating that thousands of families would be without power for several days.

Bill brought home an extra, portable generator from his office, and hooked it up to our furnace. I was grateful for the heat. The generator also supplied just enough power to charge our cell phones, so that was an added advantage. As the house warmed up, we lifted the blinds to take advantage of all the light we could get, but the house remained dim and gloomy throughout the day. As I moved from one room to another, I still absentmindedly flicked the light switch, to no avail. At lunch time, Bill braved the nasty, wind-driven precipitation to heat up some soup on the gas grill just outside our back door. With no microwave to speed up the thawing process, we pulled some shredded pork and buns out of the freezer so they could thaw in time for supper.

In the late afternoon, I was just about ready to head out to the camper to retrieve a couple of battery-powered lanterns so we would have some light for the evening, when the electricity came back on, much earlier than predicted. We were pleased for the utility workers' diligence in the face of such grueling weather conditions. We were also aware that hundreds of people will be without power for several more days.

When I walked on the path next to the Monument this morning, I was careful to avoid the muddy spots. The snow-covered bluffs and leaning power poles, along with the stiff northwest wind, served as a clear reminder of the weekend's events.

Today, when Bill came home for lunch, he brought a pair of eclipse glasses so we could watch the partial eclipse. I had almost forgotten about the eclipse because, quite frankly, a partial eclipse is nothing compared to the total eclipse we witnessed in 2017. Still, I was happy that Bill had remembered to bring the glasses, and we both enjoyed looking at the sun as the moon encroached in its space.

I wrote a couple of blogs about 2017's total eclipse. You can read about it here. That once in a lifetime experience taught me that, while a partial eclipse is interesting, a total eclipse is mind-boggling. After only a minute and a half of totality, we understood why ancient civilizations were terrified. We understood why some people, even now, might wonder if the world is coming to an end. Unexpected darkness can be horrifying.

 

The impact of that eclipse led me to write my newest children's book, Shine! (It's available for purchase on Amazon.) This book, beautifully illustrated by Tiffany Hort, compares Jesus' death and resurrection to a total eclipse, because Jesus truly is the Light of the World who expels all darkness.

 

Jesus said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." (John 8:12) These are good words to remember even on those days that are not interrupted by an extended power outage or a rare total eclipse.