This morning I was still sound asleep when I was jolted awake by a loud crash. Must be something outside, my husband thought at first, but no, we discovered that our entire kitchen light fixture had fallen from the ceiling to the floor! The wooden frame, the long fluourescent light bulbs, the decorative plate that fits over them—the WHOLE light fixture was now on the floor, and up above, broken wires dangled from a hole in the ceiling that had little pock marks where the screws had been.
I thought of the many times that I and others have stood under that light—stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce, taking a batch of muffins out of the oven, pouring a glass of water, getting flax seed out of the cupboard—it’s a small kitchen so anyone in it could have been hit by that light fixture or very nearly so.
I glanced at the clock, and saw that it was just after 4:30 a.m. Too early to call our strata neighbours and warn them of the danger that might be looming over their heads—was this the original light fixture, I wondered, or a later addition? It had been there for at least the three years we’ve lived under it, and I had never imagined that it might come crashing down. I’m just thankful that no one was in the kitchen at the time. I glanced at the clock again—still too early to call our strata, but not too early to pray.
Gracious God, thank you for the years we’ve lived here safely. I know I’ve taken that for granted, but I’m reminded of that now. I’m so glad that no one was in the kitchen when this happened, that all we’ve lost is the light fixture and a little sleep.
Writing/Reflection Prompt: How did your day start, and what are you thankful for?
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