Bedtime was still a few hours away so the girls and I each settled into our own pleasurable activities to wind-down for the night. One of the girls was giggling at an old movie while her sister was on the phone talking faster than anyone could possibly listen.

I too was occupied, completely unaware of the approaching storm. It wasn’t a big storm, just one of those that rolled in quickly, hit furiously, and left suddenly. But there we were, inside a house suddenly blackened by a power outage.

Immediate sounds of scurrying and bumping indicated that someone was slightly frantic. She was searching wildly for her cell phone because she had been disconnected. I suppose it was the urgency of the matter that caused her to forget how helpful the light can be. Her sister was a bit disgruntled at the forced intermission but decided to make the most of it by fixing a sandwich. She could not see into the refrigerator, however and grumbled, “How long till we get the power back?”

Quite amused, I waited a few moments before shedding light on the subject (literally). Because my husband and I are always prepared for a blackout, we always keep two oil lamps, candles and flashlights readily available. If a power outage happens at night, therefore, we are never left unprepared in the dark.

Still, neither of my daughters had thought to take advantage of the light which was practically at their fingertips. I lit one lamp and watched the girls settle into a more peaceful state now that they could see things more clearly.

Gazing at the soft, soothing glow of the lamp, I thought about the ten virgins who took their lamps to meet the bridegroom (Matthew 25:1f). Five wisely prepared their lamps with oil, five did not. Once these five realized they had forgotten the oil, they scrambled in desperation, much like my daughter did for the phone. It was too late. Their lack of preparation cost them dearly.

I thought too, about the unexpected storms of life. There have been times in my life when I was far less prepared than I needed to be when they hit. And like the girls, I was so distracted by immediate circumstances that I didn’t immediately reach for Jesus, the true Light.

One of the things that I dearly love about my husband is his calmness in the face of every storm, both physical and spiritual. Many years ago we faced a very destructive tornadic storm, which caused me great anxiety. I was on the other side of town, when several tornadoes began touching down near my home.

Regardless of the danger, I was determined to return home to my family. Our children were very small at the time and we lived in a mobile home park. Those are not the safest places to live, as evidenced on my way home. Several of the mobile homes from a nearby park had been thrown onto the highway and a few were perched in trees; few were left standing in the park. And to make matters worse, a radio announcement reported that the town located only miles from our home had been mostly leveled.

I assumed my family was in the storm shelter, and I knew deep down that God would protect them, but that didn’t stop worry from gripping my heart. It was not until I pulled into our park entrance that I began to relax; minimal damage was evident, but all was intact.

Rushing through my front door to grab a few things before joining my family, I was stunned to find all of them inside. I sternly asked my husband, “Why aren’t you in the shelter?” My husband smiled at me, raised his hands, and his gaze, heavenward and confidently answered, “I am!”

Obviously he knew where The Light was all along and was fully prepared.

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path (Psalm 119:105).