Power Out & Afghan Caves…

Living in the country we definitely get more power outages than in the city.

Hubs has always been affronted when the house goes dark while we’re still up,

he jumps on the phone and harasses the electric company while I rummage around in drawers for candles and matches vowing that next time I’ll be better organised.

I never am…the lights flicker back on and the urgency of candles vanishes into the brightness.

This time it went out at dusk, before dinner, and stayed out for hours.

We sat on the porch, sipping our Guinnesses caught up in the storm,





like my resident spider silent in her web.


As darkness fell I started to light the candles; I love my house in the flickering gold of candlelight but this evening I discovered that I only have one pair of candlesticks and that little stubby candles are not very good at shedding light across large spaces.

I typed, candelabra, under Gifts in Notes.

It grew really dark and we cranked up our music to cover the thunder.

At dinner time we used matches to ignite our gas range

and ate in the glimmering glow of glim.

When it came time for bed we moved the lights into the bathroom, so we could see to brush our teeth.


It was really quite a lovely sight, the reflections in the mirrors,

radiating more faintly into the bedroom,

where we used flashlights to read by for a moment or two.


Around 2am I was startled by the fridge humming its return and the lights – I thought I’d turned off – pinging on.

It had been seven hours and my house looked like Blackpool Illuminations!

Back in bed now fully awake, I find myself turning to God in gratitude for the amenities I enjoy.

For some reason, after a particular hardship or severe weather event, I think of those less fortunate individuals in the mountain caves of Afghanistan!  Don’t ask me why God puts that image on my heart but He does and I feel my favourite psalm fluttering on my lips:

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.” (Psalm 91:1-2)

I thank God for my shelter, I have heat when I need it and an Almighty shadow when Texas brings an over-abundance of sunshine, a roof when it rains and a fortress during the storms.  I ask Him to cover those who live in tents or caves or under bridges…

“He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
…You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day…” (4-5)

I thank Him for keeping me and mine safe and pray these words for them:

“‘The Lord is my refuge,'”
(when) you make the Most High your dwelling,
no harm will overtake you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;                                                                                                               they will lift you up in their hands,                                                                                                         so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” (9-12)

Such powerful words to express absolute truths.

A simple power outage fills my heart with gratitude and has me praying for Afghan cave dwellers with Psalm 91 on my lips.


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