when the lights go out...

we had no power the other night. apparently, when you live in a remote location, power outages are not only to be expected, but forgiven as a semi-basic occurrence. thanks for telling me.

true to my oblivious self, it took me awhile to realize the power was out. we had come back from a more than interesting staff day at the state fair (i know, right?) and i honestly thought nothing of all the lights being off. lack of company, with all of its quietness and stillness, also promises a lack of electricty, i have found; it's going to be, literally, a dark year i suppose.

it wasn't until i wanted to turn the light on that i realized, with a frustrated flick flick flickity flick, that i wasn't actually going to be able to turn on the lights.

well shoot.

the gravity of my discovery began to hit me in waves: no, i was not going to be able to heat up the soup i was hoping to eat for dinner. no i was not going to be able to get on my computer (i didn't charge it before i left... bummer). no i was not going to be able to get on the internet. no i was not going to be able to blog about my lovely state fair experience. and, worst of all, no i was not going to be able to watch modern family.

no. no. no no no no. and with the sun sinking steadily behind the tree line, i was going to be stuck inside a dark and, may i mention, cold house that was only going to get darker and colder.

the boys built a fire while i proceeded to throw a bit of tantrum. what are we supposed to do? do they know when the power is going to be turned on? has anyone called the electric company? and what about the generators? the food in the refrigerators? wait everyone older than 24 left? wait. no. the boys looked helplessly at me while i freaked out. they suggested a headlamp and a book. i resigned, grabbed the aforementioned items, some lukewarm yogurt for dinner, and sat down in a huff.

this. was. not. ok.

i calmed down eventually, enough to get some kerosene lanterns lit so i could head up to my room. i got ready for bed by lantern light, layering layer upon layer to ward off a now heater-less chill. i felt like i was living straight out of the 1800s. which, i finally admitted, was kinda cool. i was actually a bit thankful for the night of no electricity. i liked the chapter i read and was actually able to journal a bit. all in all, it was a nice evening. and, to make it even better, the electricity came back on before i went to bed. i have yet to be more thankful for my cranky old heater.

it must be noted that it wasn't necessarily the lack of electricity that was bothering me. ok, maybe a little bit. the idea of going to bed without knowing the time (no phone service, remember) and without heat was, in fact, getting to me. rather, i have realized that it was more the kink thrown into my schedule that prompted the tantrum. i had my night all planned out and within five minutes, the entirety of that plan had burned up in the fire we built to keep warm.

this realization had been nagging on me for most of the week. i mean, am i really that set on plans, on schedules, on self-ordained order that i struggle to enjoy a spontaneous, quiet night by the fire? what's more, i should begin to ask myself, is this how approach all of my life? how am i supposed to allow the Lord's direction, His will, and His Lordship in my life if i can't allow a bit of His improv. i have bought into this lie of culture that my life has to planned. it has to be scheduled. it has to be going somewhere with meaning, with gusto, and with pace. get a 'good' grade. get a 'good' job. get a 'good' salary. get a 'good' spouse. get a 'good' family. i schedule my life so much to match the runnings of the world that i speed right by the peace i can find in the life that i am promised in the Word. and eventually, i get so caught up in how i want my life to go, or even worse how the world tells me it should go, that i miss out on Who, instead, i should be following.

as of late, the past few days, past few weeks, past few months of my life hasn't necessarily gone the way i planned it to go. or, even, how i wanted it to go. yes i can see the wonderful things have been gained in this whole process but in the jostle of pace and changes of plans, many things have also been lost. and i have found it hard not to throw a fit. i am so tempted to ask what, how, and why and to wish things were different. i often find myself hoping for my planned life to come magically back instead of accepting the one that has been given to me. 

instead of trusting that, maybe, a kink in my plan could reveal a spontaneous beauty in His.

pray for me, please. i am finding it hard to trust.

    But as for me, my prayer is to you, O LORD.
        At an acceptable time, O God,
        in the abundance of your steadfast love answer me in your saving faithfulness.
(Psalm 69:13)