When we decided to replace some light fixtures in our home it wasn't easy narrowing down the multitude of options. I then came across an accompanying document called "The Light Bulb Buying Guide". It contained more pages of information than our entire mortgage did. All about light bulbs--and 140 years of history. So where has that history taken us?
We had been playing with groups of children; gently kicking around a soccer ball, listening to them giggle as they stuck stickers onto our faces, and giving piggyback rides in response to their smiles and uplifted arms. Now it was time to sit and watch a movie.
We were in a migrant work camp in Mexico. The sun was setting so we looked for a place to sit on the ground amongst the large number of people who had come out. As the evening moved on I was struck by how dark it had become. There were no outdoor lights. No indoor lights. The projection of the movie against a white van provided the only illumination. There was no electricity in this camp. When the sun set, so did their only light.
I read an account of a man and his family who lived in a Kenyan refugee camp for many years. He said the days were hardbut the nights were terrifying. As darkness descended they could hear the screams of people who were the latest victims of violent crime. The darkness exposed their complete vulnerability while providing a protective cover to those who perpetrated these heinous acts.
The power went out in our town the other night. I couldn't finish the episode I had started on Netflix. We lost the alarm that was set to wake us up in the morning. As the outage continued my mind began to think about what we still had when the power went out. Could I shower in the morning? What would I do without a blow dryer and flat iron? Entering the fifth hour of the outage my thoughts turned to the food that might spoil in the fridge, as well as the question of what we were going to do about morning coffee.
Things that I may have to think about in the dark are vastly different from the concerns of those with whom I share this planet. To have an outage you first have to have power. To worry about a freezer full of food you first have to have a freezer full of food. To worry about what might happen to electronics and appliances you first have to have electronics and appliances.
I have experienced power outages in cities, in towns, in a university dorm, at a campground, on holidays and at a work. I can say with thankfulness I have never felt unsafe or unprotected in any of those situations. Inconvenienced, perhaps. A situation requiring a change of plans, maybe. But never did I feel my life or safety were at risk simply because I found myself in the dark.
I cheered when the power was restored. I rebooted my computer, checked messages on the land line andturned the coffee maker on. I happily and easily slid into the routine of the day. Too easily. Did I take time to give a thought to the men and women who worked so hard at the restoration? Did I consider those for whom restoration is not a possibility because they don't have power in the first place?
There are no crews pulling into that migrant work camp to set up an electrical system. There are no crews moving between the tents in that refugee camp to bring what could literally be the life-saving gift of power and light.
Maybe being in the dark is a good place for us to spend some time. It just may prompt us to think about what we can access with a flip of a switch but is unavailable to so many--some who live close by, some who live in areas far away. When the lights go out here we can think about what we can do to help the light get in somewhere else. That`s my outlook.
