The Night the Lights Went Out In . . . .

A recent storm that swept through our part of the country left our household, and indeed thousands more, without power for almost 48 hours. Emergency signal alarms blared from our cell phones at 5 in the morning, warning of 80 mph winds and severe thunder storms and urging us to take shelter. It was a rude awakening, to be sure.

At first, we were only mildly inconvenienced by the power outage. After all, it was early morning hours and the relentless heat and humidity that characterizes almost every day here in Eastern Nebraska in August had not really set in yet. In fact, sitting out on the front porch waiting for the full sunrise to reveal the extent of the storm’s damage, there was a light breeze and if you let your imagination really run wild, even a slight chill to the air. A very light rain was still dripping off the eaves and there was sheet lightning in the north. It was beautiful to behold, this waiting-to-view destruction moment.

But as the morning progressed, realization upon gradual realization washed over us. How many times did I flip a light switch only to be reminded that the power was out? Wait, what? Our well water runs off an electric pump? The water to the house consisted of only what was left in the water heater tank when the power went out. Our generator overheated and stopped running. We ran to town for parts only to find that they needed to be ordered.

I checked our emergency stores. We were in pretty good shape except were a bit short on bottled water and batteries. I ran to the store only to find everyone else had the same idea. The line at the drive-thru coffee shop had twenty cars – the inhabitants eagerly awaiting caffeine in order the face the challenge of storm cleanup.

I finally returned home with the needed supplies only to be reminded by my husband not to open the refrigerator or the freezer, as we needed to conserve what refrigeration there was. And to be honest, until he told me not to open the
refrigerator, I never realized how badly I really needed that yogurt I had stashed on the second shelf.

We walked the property, stunned at the trees that had been felled or limbs torn off. There was damage and debris everywhere but nothing irreparable. I felt shocked but oh so thankful that we had weathered the storm with no damage to our house or persons. As the day wore on, I called friends to let them know of our circumstances and of course, everyone wanted to see pictures of the damage.

I blithely went out to take pictures and share them with friends until mid-afternoon, when my phone started notifying me that the battery was running low. Oh great! How to charge my phone without electricity? I felt like an idiot. I started the car and plugged in my phone. This would do in a pinch, but seriously, I needed to stop sending videos and pictures to everyone.

And it was so hot! Ninety-six degrees degrees outside and not a breeze! And of course we had been out with many of our neighbors, clearing trees and debris from the neighborhood roads, driveways, and ditches as well as from our own property. We were sweltering! And when we took shelter indoors, we found that without air conditioning, our house felt like a sauna – and not in a good way!

With no Internet, no television, no radio, and not even the quiet hum of an appliance running anywhere in the house, I got to experience what real silence was. And as night fell and we retreated to the basement where it was cooler, we got to experience total darkness. Battery-powered lanterns and flashlights helped, but like Tom Hanks in Castaway, when the light of the flashlight was extinguished, you really felt alone in the dark.

In the quiet of the night, I thought of the Lord’s words, “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10). This is one of the Lord’s requests that is so difficult for many of us to do. Our minds race with a thousand different thoughts and fragments – and no sooner do we settle down to pray or meditate than our mind wanders to trivial matters. But on this night, after the storm had passed – and in total silence and darkness I found that comforting stillness the Lord was talking about.

And I felt assured that when the world came to life again, I would be able to find that stillness inside of myself.

And the stillness became peace.

And I slept.