When the Power Goes Out

At 4 a.m., with the power still out and the generator humming, I'm realizing how much energy I’ve spent trying to protect myself from hard.

It’s day three since the storm came through and knocked out our power. I’m sitting in my cozy, twinkle-filled kitchen, sipping hot coffee… listening to the steady hum of the generator. SO thankful, since it's only nine degrees outside.

I’ve been wrestling with a lot of heavy thoughts. While we cling to the safety of our heated home, so many are without. And even with this temporary comfort, I’m still fighting back nagging fear. I hate to admit that.

The propane is getting low. What about my plants? I’ve babied them for years and years. If the power goes out, so do they. Our hill (1/4 mile off the road) is a sheet of ice. We don’t have the luxury of fleeing easily. We had freezers full of food. Paint. Clay. Thousands of dollars could be gone. Amazing how your brain can do a loop of worst case scenarios. And none of it really matters in the whole big scheme of things… it’s just stuff. We’ll be fine. But yet, the loop continues.

We’ve done a brilliant job of turning our hill into a haven over the years. Some might even label us preppers. I think that’s where my unease is coming from. We did what we could to cocoon ourselves from hardship. And yet, it still came.

That realization has me thinking about Brian’s recent health scare. He’s one of the most disciplined people I know. He exercises every day. He eats well. And at 52, he still had a heart attack.

The truth is sobering. No matter how well we plan, hard still happens. Scripture says, “Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring” (Proverbs 27:1). We can prep, plan, and do everything “right,” but life still comes for us.

What really matters is how you respond. And Who you respond to.

I signed up for BSF this year, and our Bible study last week was on Haggai. I don’t remember ever reading those two chapters before, but there is so much there. The Israelites return to Jerusalem after seventy years in exile, and their one assignment is to rebuild the temple. Instead, they focus on building their own homes. They grow comfortable. Complacent. Self-absorbed. They prioritize what should have been far down the list.

God speaks through Haggai and says, “Give careful thought to your ways” (Haggai 1:5). He points out that they’re living in paneled houses while His house lies in ruins. He calls them back. Back to restoring what actually matters. I can’t help but wonder if that warning is meant for me, too.

The most unnerving sound these past few days has been trees falling in the distance. I’ve listened as they snap and crack in the woods behind our house. Limbs heavy with ice, bending until the weight becomes too much. What’s weak breaks off…

Jesus talks about this kind of pruning. “Every branch that bears fruit He prunes so that it will be even more fruitful” (John 15:2). God has a way of using everything… Storms. Fear. Discomfort. He uses it all to show us what’s getting in the way of growth.

I want my security rooted in my Savior, not in my safety nets. Not in bank accounts or generators or success or self-reliance. Jesus says, “I am the vine; you are the branches… apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

That’s what I’m holding onto right now. Coffee in hand. Generator humming. Trees cracking in the distance. Real life, real peace, only comes when we abide in Him.

Lord, I confess how easily I reach for control instead of closeness. I like to feel prepared, protected, and self-sufficient. Show me where I’ve trusted comfort more than You. Forgive me. Prune what is weak in me, even when it hurts. Teach me to abide, not just when life feels steady, but when the lights go out and the ground feels shaky. You are my true security. Amen.