That's the Night That the Lights Went Out in Kansas

Last winter we had a power outage.  It wasn't storm related.  It must have been a grid thing, because the electricity was on for the houses across the street from us but not for the houses behind us.  It only lasted about an hour and a half, so it really wasn't all that inconvenient.  But I learned a lot in those 90 minutes.

First, our parents were serious when they told us to keep emergency candles and matches handy.  I have long since used my emergency candles for other emergencies ... like a birthday cake.  We found some Yankee candles, however, and my bedroom ended up smelling like oatmeal cookies and cinnamon toast.  Which, of course, made us hungry, but we couldn't cook anything (see comment about lack of electricity above).  That's when I learned Lesson Number Two:  Always keep emergency food on hand.

Now, granted, we didn't actually move into starvation mode.  No one started looking at our dogs longingly or thought wistfully about the plate of dinner they didn't quite finish.  No one made rash statements like, "I will never push to the side or sneakily toss my lima beans to the dogs."  But we did talk about how we might try to not take for granted the many blessings we have.

Lesson Number Three came in the form of quietness.  Somehow, when it's dark, it's also quiet.  We found ourselves speaking in low voices.  We broke out the guitars which were strummed softly.  We shared memories, we shared hopes, we shared some dreams.  And it was there, in the quiet, with candles burning and music softly playing, that I was reminded of the most important lesson of all:  My family is my biggest blessing.

We're not perfect; most times we're not even awesome.  We struggle, we argue, we get knocked down a bit.  And, honestly, there have been times when I've wondered if I was really just too messed up of an individual to have a family.  But there, in that gift of quiet darkness, I could see and hear so clearly. I wouldn't trade my life with this man and these boys for anything.

It comes as no surprise that our electricity came back on.  Appliances started humming.  Voices resumed their normal volumes.  Everyone scattered from our bedroom and resumed their normal getting ready for bed routines, and I felt just a bit of disappointment that our forced quiet time together had come to an end. 

I've thought of that evening many times.  There have been a few events since then that have made me very thankful we shared that special evening.  And today, as I experienced the first snowflakes of the season, I thought again of that winter's night, and it made me smile.

There's a part of me that silently hopes we have another power outage (a short one, with no harm done to people or food).  And just in case, I'm going to round up some candles and matches.