Deja Vu with a Chill

I've lived in St. Louis on and off for many years. I've perspired in the heat of summer, and I've bundled up in the dead of winter, but I've never lost power for an entire week. And the funny thing is I've now done it twice in six months. Crazy. I'm actually rather addicted to electricity - the hum of a fan, the beat of a song, the ding of a microwave. There always seems to be a buzz of sorts when the lights are on, almost a feeling of constant companionship. But when they are off, it gets insanely quiet. Almost too quiet. And suddenly you feel alone. Or should I say, I feel alone.

As I've experienced this quietness, I've thought about how much we need electricity. We need it so desperately, all the time, to give us most of what we need in a day - light to read, food to eat, hot water to bathe, and heat to keep warm. But we take it for granted. We forget how much we rely on it because it is always there, giving to us. And so when it disappears, what do we do? Freeze and starve? Well, we could, or we run to find it somewhere else because we know we need it and we don't want to be without it. We're dependent on it. What if life was always quiet, without a convenient light or a hot bath or a cup of coffee, ground fresh? What if it were always cold because the heat didn't work anymore? Would we want that kind of life? Probably not.

Electricity reminds me a little of God. He's always there, giving us everything we need, yet, sometimes we don't pay attention. And then, what if He wasn't there? What if we were cold and hungry and alone? What if it were quiet for all eternity? Would we want that kind of eternal life?

Good thing we have a choice and don't have to rely on AmerenUE for our eternal home.