Last Sunday my family emerged from church to a rainy downpour mixed with a sprinkling of white snowflakes. I’d heard that we might see some snow in the mix Sunday or Monday, but no predictions of anything more serious were made. Rain and snow continued to fall throughout the day like a snow globe continually being shaken. I did a couple loads of laundry to get a head start on my week, but I didn’t think to go shopping.
Monday morning we awoke to eight inches of snow on the ground. We stared out the windows in disbelief. When did that happen? I went to make breakfast, but I hadn’t even plugged in the coffee pot when the lights flashed off. Uh-oh. No coffee. I could picture my husband in caffeine withdrawals. Cold cereal loomed in our future.
Life has a way of throwing us curve balls, or in this case, snowballs. With the snap of a power line all my plans for the day, and as time would prove, the week, evaporated in a curtain of white.
The Bible tells us in Matthew 5:45 that God “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” Everyone on my side of the street had been affected by the lapse of power. We were all affected.
As the wait for power to return dragged on through the morning, I gave thanks that our home protected us from the elements. I folded the laundry I’d done Sunday afternoon. Checking food supplies seemed needless. I believed we’d have electricity by the end of the day.
A submarine sandwich my son pulled from his freezer and brought over became dinner. I tried not to notice the ice crystals on the cheese that didn’t thaw. We burned candles when darkness settled, and went to bed early.
By Tuesday evening my spirit sagged. My family went to prayer after dinner, as we always do, the candles providing light. I wanted to find something to praise Him for, but the cold had taken its toll. The Bible says in John 14:1: “Let not your heart be troubled: you believe in God, believe also in me.” Claiming that verse I urgently pleaded for change.
The lights flashed on. Soon we were warm again. With access once again to the news, we learned that 15,000 residents in our city had been without power. We were the lucky ones. A nearby town had been isolated by a landslide. Rural communities still waited in the dark. My selfish prayers turned to prayers for others and my thanks rose from gratitude for having endured only two snowy days.
Of course, my husband gave thanks for coffee.