7:59 am

Barnabas Express September 2008

7:59 am. last Saturday morning.

That was the exact moment when the electricity came back on at our house.

It had been off for almost one week, a lingering after-effect from the 78 mph winds that blew across Ohio on the previous Sunday.  Hurricane Ike did not go quietly.

Like you, we had experienced occasional power outages over the years.  But never for this long.  And never in quite this way.  

• For one thing, we had streetlights all week, even though our power was out.
• For another, our neighbors two houses away had power, and the school across the street had power.
• And most of our family and friends in this area had power.
    
• In other words, we were tantalizingly close to the real thing, but we had no way to tap into the power that others possessed, even though they were close, visible and "power-ful."

    . . . when the lanterns ran out of oil (and they did several times)
    . . . when the batteries on our flashlights and laptops and portable radios ran out
    . . . when the candles flickered out and it grew quiet and  dark again

we laughed about how  much we enjoyed light in the darkness
we got in the car and turned on the lights
or we went back to the office to recharge.

And, to be honest, after a few days, we grew a bit tired of the routine and the chilly evening darkness and the absence of modern machinery.

On the afternoon of day 5, I stopped to visit with some of our "powerless" neighbors to the east.  (It turned out that several dozen of our neighbors on our eastern side were also without electricity.  They call this a "spur" outage because it affects an isolated string of people, all of whom are surrounded by customers with electricity.)
    We kidded each other about going back to village mode, and we encouraged
    Each other that it wouldn't be much longer.

    But the last woman I spoke with summed it up in these few emotion-charged     words:"I just want my life back!"

You understand what she means and you identify with her emotion.  But you also try to look through the wider lens of life, in pursuit of perspective:

1 - It was a week of frustrating inconvenience without electricity, but we were all safe. Thank the Lord.  We even had uninterrupted water service to our homes.
2 - At the same time, thousands of our neighbors in the Caribbean and along the     Gulf Coast have suffered terrible losses of homes, of businesses . . .  even loved ones.
3 - The worst darkness of all, the worst power outage we can experience, is not electricity.  It is the loss of power to care, to love, to get outside ourselves.


To put it positively, our greatest need for power is internal, in our hearts and in our souls.

The apostle Peter was a man who knew about power outages.  But when he came back "online" with his leader and Lord - Jesus - he wrote this:
    "His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Him who called us by his own glory and goodness." (2 Peter 1: 3)    

Paul, the apostle, spoke about his powerlessness to overcome weakness, but testified that the Lord said to him, "' . . . my grace is sufficient; t's all you need. My strength [power] comes into its own in your weakness.'"
    "Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen.  I quit focusing on the handicap
    and began appreciating the gift.  It was a case of Christ's strength [power]
    moving in on my weakness …"  (2 Corinthians 12: 9, Msg)


When God's internal power comes sweeping through us, it 's infinitely sweeter than the beep on the microwave at 7:59 last Saturday morning.  

    Not dependent on human hands, nor in any way diminished by human failure,
    His power comes from His love and His compassion for us, the kind of love and     care a father has for his own children.

    


Lord, would you pour out your power on us - empowering us to love, to give you heartfelt thanks, to humble ourselves, to get outside our selfish cocoons.
    
    Turn your power on, Lord God.
          Inside us.  
            Through us.  
                For your glory and our good.
                    And . . . for the blessing of many, many others.


Amen.