When the Lights Go Out: Finding God in the Quiet Interruptions
- Thi My Linh Le
- Apr 24
- 2 min read
It happened on a Tuesday night. The lights flickered, then cut off completely. No warning. No storm. Just stillness. At first, we scrambled—grabbing flashlights, lighting candles, checking phones. But once the initial buzz settled, something holy settled in too: quiet.
That night, in the hum of nothing, we remembered something we forgot we needed.
1. The Gift of Pause
We live in a world always “on.” When the power went out, so did the noise—TV, Wi-Fi, calendar alerts, background buzz. In that pause, we heard things we usually missed:
Our own breathing.
The rhythm of the rain.
Our child’s whispered question: “Can we just sit together?”
It reminded us that sometimes, God interrupts us to invite us.
2. Conversations Without Distractions
Without screens or tasks pulling us away, we sat in a circle and talked. Really talked. About memories. About what we’re dreaming of. About what we’re afraid of. It was clumsy and beautiful.
We remembered: community isn’t built in grand moments—it’s built in small ones, when we’re fully present.
3. Candlelight Prayers
As the hours stretched on, we lit a few candles. The flicker of light created a stillness we don’t often allow. We whispered prayers out loud. Not fancy ones. Just honest ones:
“Thank you for slowing us down.”
“Help us live with more quiet on purpose.”
“Be near to those who sit in deeper darkness.”
And in the soft shadows, we felt God near.
4. When the Power Returns
Eventually, the lights came back. The hum of appliances kicked on. Notifications returned. But we didn’t rush back to “normal.” We lingered a little. We kept one candle burning. We let the silence hang on just a bit longer.
Because sometimes, the interruption is the invitation.
Sacred Disruptions. So here’s the invitation: the next time life slows you down unexpectedly—through a power outage, a canceled plan, or just a strange pocket of stillness—don’t rush to fill it. Let it speak. Let it reveal. Let it be a window from within.
Because even when the lights go out, the Light never does.
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