This past weekend sure proved that January’s in Florida are
not a time to be thinking we are beyond the scope of bizarre weather. A friend of mine posted on Facebook: “In the last 2
weeks we've had: 20-85 degree weather, a hard freeze, A/C and heat on (within a
few days of each other), hail, a wind storm, tornados, thousands without power
due to crazy storm, boots/sweaters/flip flops/shorts. You win Florida!” This
sums it up perfectly!
Sunday
afternoon, the farm family was in the middle of our usual Sunday afternoon
activities: the boys were watching footbalThis past weekend sure proved that January’s in Florida are not a time to be thinking we are beyond the scope of bizarre weather. A friend of mine posted on Facebook: “In the last 2 weeks we've had: 20-85 degree weather, a hard freeze, A/C and heat on (within a few days of each other), hail, a wind storm, tornados, thousands without power due to crazy storm, boots/sweaters/flip flops/shorts. You win Florida!” This sums it up perfectly!
Sunday afternoon, the farm family was in the middle of our usual Sunday afternoon activities: the boys were watching football, and the girls were not. The weather had been bad, but thankfully we still had power and we were enjoying all the wonderful pleasures of life that power brings. Namely, lights, refrigeration, and technology. As soon as the third flicker of electricity surged through the house, everything went quiet, dim, and still. Nothing humming, buzzing, talking, beeping, or ringing. I immediately looked outside our large window overlooking a pasture and pond. A bird flew across the sky effortlessly, the Spanish moss swayed higher through the blowing wind, and the grey clouds tumbled around each other. Life continued, on planet Earth.
The kids scattered around the house like little ants, suddenly fearful of daylight and in desperate need of flashlights. We found the candles and lighters, and set them out for later. The big boys brought out a board game and set up shop in the dining room. I snuggled on the couch with the littlest one and we read a stack of books together. Our daughter did yoga. The farmer went to move a giant tree that had fallen across our road. Life continued inside our home.
It was suddenly dinner time and without power and without water, the options are slim for an ill-prepared family of 6. The farmer to the rescue once again, headed to town. The lines were impossibly long at Burger King, but it was thankfully open and saved us from starvation. We ate at our table with lots of candles, several flashlights, and a gallon of bottled water.
Without hot running water, the kids were ready for bed in 30 seconds. Changing clothes and hopping into bed is a much shorter routine than normal. 3 out of 4 kids were asleep at 8:30 pm. The still and quiet house was dark without technology blaring at us. Our minds were calm and somewhat empty without being able to see the demands of urgency. Life was moving so slowly. Life seemed easy.
The last several days have been marked by complete chaos online. If you aren’t part of the social media addiction that plagues our world today, consider yourself blessed. Our country is painfully divided, with brother against brother, and no end in sight. It’s been horribly sad, honestly. It doesn’t make me hopeful, it doesn’t make me happy about our future, it makes me incredibly disappointed that this is our reality. This is not purely about American politics my friends, this is about the condition of our innermost souls.
I needed a break from the deep thoughts that were plaguing my mind. And from 4pm-9pm, (BIG thank you to Tri-County Co-Op linemen!) inside my comfortable modern-convenience laden home, I received that break. Life continued with my family being together. Life pressed on with flashlights and hamburgers. Life thrived without a schedule or squeaky clean boys. That unhurried 5 hours was the best blessing of my week: to feel deep inside of me that darkness can be shut out by focusing on your present blessings. Darkness can be pushed aside by slowing down, powering down. The light crept back in when contentment became our only option.
I drank coffee this morning, ran the dishwasher, and everyone bathed. Back to 2017. Life continues, on planet Earth.
