The steps of a man...

It's way too late... or too early depending on who you ask. The power went out again for, what... maybe the 3rd, perhaps 4th time since yesterday. I probably would have slept through it were it not for that annoying chirping sound coming from one of the numerous (hardwired) smoke detectors (which probably means that the battery is low in juice, hence the "chirp" when power is supplied through said (dying) battery) .

The steps of a man are established by the Lord...

Aside from some twilight streaming in through the windows, it was very dark. I arose from the couch and began to feel my way across the B-room (my wife is away on a business trip and the couch is sometimes the only place I can fall asleep) in search of a flashlight. Now for some time, I've always slept with a light on; a bathroom or hall light, night- light, something! I worked at a hospital on the night shift for 6 years straight and a grand total of 9 years all together. This meant sleeping during the day most times until my days off. If slept at night, then awoke suddenly in pitch darkness, I would fly out of bed, disoriented, usually imagining that I'm at work and fell asleep on the job or that I'm supposed to be at work but am late. "What day is it? What time is it?" I would frantically ask Jacqui. So, this seemed to lessen the trauma if I left a light on and could survey my environment.

...and He delights in his way.

As I proceed to my bedroom for a flashlight, the house appeared to be a completely foreign territory. Had I never wandered through my house in near-total darkness? The small amount of light being filtered by the window treatments created a surreal psychodelic effect in that I could not focus my eyes on anything. I continued to feel my way down the hall navigating around the dog, laundry baskets, the vaccuum, shoes; all the while trying to clear my eyes and focus but to no avail.

When he falls, he will not be hurled headlong, because the Lord is the One who holds his hand.
Ps 37:23

I made to the bedroom and found my flashlight. I went downstairs and hunted for the chirping, rogue detector. Along the way I grabbed some big candles (thanks to my Honey for being a candle girl!) and eventually found the noisey smoke detector. As I struggled to open it, the power came back on. I wouldn't have realized it on my own, but a little voice called out in the darkness. "Dad.. hey dad? The power is back on." It was my daughter Alex coming up behind me. My rustling around had awakened her. Then the odd falshlight activity had alerted her to something going on downstairs. As we headed back to bed I wondered why Alex had not called out for me initially from the safety of her loft bed? Why did she venture down into the darkness without even a flashlight, into the dangerous unknown? Suddenly, I knew why. She knows the sound her father makes when he's in the house. It is distinct and personal, rich with subtle nuances. There is no doubt in her mind that her father is in the house.