Lights On Lights Off

Last I wrote I left you thinking that I had finally made it to the campground and was set up and ready for the night.  Uh, think again.   I got all settled in, rearranging and putting back all the things that moved and were put away during my travels, and was just about to don my comfy pajamas and watch an episode of Doc Martin when BAM. The power went off.
With a sinking feeling I peaked out the window to see if it might be the campground, but alas, all the other campers and campsites were lit.  It was just me.  What the heck?
I used the light of my phone to find my flashlight and then the breaker box in the cabinet over the sink.  Flick, flick, flick, flick.  Nothing.  Maybe it was the power pole.
I went out to the power pole and flicked its breaker on and off.  Nothing.  Maybe it was my extension cord.  I unplugged and plugged.  Nothing.  Hm. . .
I thought of trying an appliance at the pole to see if I could determine if it was them or me.  I carried a little heater out there and plugged it in to my extension cord and the pole.  The heater worked.  Now what?
I remembered seeing a phone number posted on the office door for after-hours assistance so I walked down to the office and dialed the number on my cell phone.  Voice mail.  I left my message, a plea for help, and started the walk back to my trailer.  The manager called me back before I got there.
Imagine this in the dark. . .
Soon one of the maintenance guys arrived to assist me.  It was after 10 p.m.  He tried everything I had already tried, and a half hour later, apologized, saying that there was an RV service guy who would probably come the next day.  I could get his number at the office.
I thanked him, called my husband for the twentieth time (I exaggerate), this time so tired I could barely speak.  He urged me to get a hotel but I told him I was so tired that I was just going to fall in my bed, power or not.  I did just that.  Thankfully there was a nice cool breeze off the lake so I cranked opened my delicate vintage glass windows for the first time and lay down, clothes and all.
“Why me, Lord?  Why did all this have to happen today?”  I prayed, exhausted.
Think of Job and what he went through, He replied ever so quietly and gently.
“You’re right,” I replied.  “Please forgive me for complaining, and thank you for getting me here safely.”
With that short prayer, I closed my eyes for a fitful night, waking to birds chirping in the morning.
Another blessing.  I would not have heard the birds if my fan had been on and my windows closed.  And I certainly would not have heard the Lord’s reminder if everything had gone like I thought it should have.
Stay tuned. . .

By aencoker

Author, teacher, mom, grandmother, but most of all, Christian.

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