Blackouts

This week I experienced two blackouts. 

Monday morning: a manhole exploded a couple streets away from my school, so they shut off electricity in the immediate vicinity; consequently, school was canceled and all enjoyed a pre-Thanksgiving day-off. 

Last night, J and I, along with two friends from our house church, enjoyed a quiet evening at Qdoba's, followed by an "Advent Pre-funk" at our place.  While in the midst of reading Scripture and meditating on the world which is to come, the power went out. 

The first candle of Advent had been lit, and for the next hour or so, we sat around the candlelight in pitch darkness, admiring the flame's beauty and enjoying the warmth of conversation.  Without electricity, we felt naked and helpless, yet because we were in the company of a single light source that was unaffected by the power outage, we felt secure. 

Prior to the blackout, the candlelight danced fervently to capture our attention, but we did not notice it because we were focused on other tasks.  Yet when the entire room suddenly turned pitch black, the only thing that captivated our attention was the candlelight, which became the centerpiece of conversation. 

A sudden moment of clarity.

Modern life, with its bright lights, instant messages, and disposable materials, can make us lose sight of our light/life source.  While we're busy looking in every which direction, the candlelight dances and bides its time.