The Power of Presence
“Welcome to the 1800’s.” My words dripped with sarcasm and a bit of delight. As my kids sat stunned from the realization that no electricity meant no internet, I lit a hazelnut candle and settled into the unexpected. No storm, no warning, no reason, but no electricity. I later discovered that a transformer caught on fire and damaged power lines. Since my husband was out of the country, it added an element of anxiety, but we sat expectantly, awaiting the power to come on at any moment.
Things shifted a bit when I texted a friend who lives in our neighborhood and she shared that power would most likely be out throughout the night. Once my kids recovered from the initial shock, an inconvenience turned into an opportunity.
The thick darkness forced us all into the shared space of our sectional sofa. Over candlelight and belly laughter, we huddled under our fuzzy, pale blue blanket.
“Hey!” my daughter’s countenance lit up with excitement. “Let’s watch funny videos of Dad.”
We laughed until our sides hurt as we watched encouraging and hilarious videos my husband had sent throughout the year to my daughter while she was away at college. I had never seen most of these treasured gems, and I wondered if I would have ever had the chance without this unexpected inconvenience.
Life returned to the blur of activity one might expect from a household filled with full-time ministry and two older teenagers. But I savored the precious moments of that night, stolen away from the bustle of harried schedules and the undertow of the Internet. Usually, I bristle at inconveniences. After all, they’re so, well, inconvenient. I have things to cross off my to-do list and places to be and problems to solve. Yet, those candlelit hours without power reminded me of the power of presence.
Something remarkable happens when we choose presence. We notice what we typically wouldn’t see. We experience what we typically would’ve missed. And an ordinary moment becomes extraordinary. When you hit a snag in the checkout line, find the window to encourage your cashier. When you face interruption at work by that needy co-worker, find the window to hear them out. When you trip over toy trucks and stuffed animals, find the window to sit cross-legged on the floor with the beloved children they belong to. When you put away a mountain of dirty dishes left by a houseful of teenagers, find the window to continue making your home a place your teenagers want to be.
See, inconvenience is all about perspective. Jesus never let an inconvenience stop Him from being present.
He went out His way to change the life of a broken Samaritan woman.
He stopped in the middle of a pressing crowd to heal the wounds of a bleeding woman.
He delayed the processional into town to have dinner with a scorned tax collector named Zaccheus.
I’m actually praying a little inconvenience comes your way so that you can ask for God’s perspective. We can’t always control the downed power lines of life, but we can and choose to embrace the power of presence.
Let inconvenience crack open a window to create a sacred moment and a lasting memory. Light a candle and lean into the unexpected.
Make Your Life Matter No Matter What
With Love,
Angela
