Last night at around 9pm the lights went out. The whole town was dark for as far as i could tell. We live in a small rural town and there are few lights anyway, but when the lights go out everywhere there is a darkness that is almost overwhelming. I was awake, watching the news and ironing my husbands pants, when the electricity went out. I quickly got a flashlight, located some candles and a second battery powered lantern. Next i called the electric company to report the outage. I went about these tasks making very little noise, and far less than the television had been making, but still the silence and the heat woke my husband who is an otherwise very sound sleeper. "Why is it so hot in here?" he wondered. "The power is out. Won't be on till at least one a.m." He grumbled, and went back to sleep. As i lay there i wondered at the sheer blackness of the room. I raised my leg. Normally you can see in a dark room when your eyes adjust; last night, there was nothing there. I raised my hand to just in front of my face; nothing. It was eery. I was not surprised when my daughter called from her room. "Mom, why is it so dark? I asked her what woke her and she said, "the dark did." How can silence, and darkness wake someone? Aren't they necessary for sleep? But i knew what she meant; this darkness was different. It had presence and thickness. The silence had hands. It made me think about how comfortable we have become with the electricity, with the air conditioner, with the comforts of home and life in the 21st century. Could we make it if there were a sustained power outage? Are we prepared for a disaster of any kind, much less biblical proportions? And how do we prepare? This darkness was so bad because it was widespread: when it is just our lights out there is still light elsewhere we can go to.
The questions raised by this 3 and a half hour change of pace have varied from personal to political to faith to physical. So many questions, and only One has the answers.
We ended up outside on the trampoline because it was cooler outside and it was actually brighter since the moon was big and bright and comforting. The crickets and cicadas and bull frogs supplied all the customary noise and after the novelty of sleeping outside under the stars wore off, we were all about to go to sleep when : THE LIGHTS CAME BACK ON!
It was like a shock of sorts. I had actually drifted off and found the lights and television and fans and air conditioners an intrusion of sorts. But only for a moment. I was happy to jump back into the king under the a/c and drift off.
But the questions remain. I hope the answers find me soon.
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