Luminaries

[I tried posting this a couple days ago, and my wise and loving wife was concerned about those who know me and might be concerned if they weren't familiar with this particular style of my writing.  One of the skills as a writer that I have been trying to develop is to watch for events that happen in my life, or mental snapshots of a place I am, then see and write the story that is contained in it.  This story was sparked by the thunderstorm that passed through Swaziland last week, and I've also taken a little from an experience I had in Sudan almost ten years ago.  But for those who know me and care about me, this is NOT an autobiographical account of what happened last week!  This is the story of the moonrise on the night after the storm; and the story seeks to delve into what light and darkness mean to us, not simply on the surface, but deep within our souls.  The photo is from our front porch here in Swaziland.]

Yesterday a violent thunderstorm passed through the valley, the wind howling and the heavens dropping pebbles of hail to the earth.  We lost power in late afternoon, and many hours passed by before it could be restored.  As dusk approached and still the lights were not working in the house, anxiety began to swell up inside my heart.  The clouds were low, beneath the hilltops, and once the darkness came, there was no light in the entire valley.

The rattling hum of a generator filled the air, and one little light shone in the darkness.  But when the appointed hour came, the generator gasped its last breath then choked off, for the sake of saving precious dollars of electricity.  Instantly, terror like I have never known gripped me, its tentacles wrangling out from the blackness and wrapping themselves around my very soul.  On my bed, I held my hand before my face, but still all I could see was a vast nothingness.  The night is evil.

I cried out for help, again and again; but the night did not end, nor the fear, nor the helpless blindness.  What if I am attacked?  What if a thief breaks in and steals?  What if I am torn by wild beasts?  I dared not get out of my bed, even to go across the room and get the flashlight.  What if a snake has come under the door?  What if a scorpion hides inside my shoe?

When I am afraid, I will trust in God.  And finally, after a lifetime of nights, I fell asleep.

Tonight, the clouds have lifted, and the full moon rises over the rocky hills.  I see the light, that it is good; and I am thankful -- for the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night.