Last week, the city of Seattle and the surrounding areas were hit by a massive windstorm, featuring gusts up to 60 miles per hour. Storms like these are not unusual in the Pacific Northwest, as we usually get at least one of this magnitude each winter. Typically, the high winds are accompanied with ice and snow, but fortunately this time it was pretty much just high wind and heavy rain. The raging winds tore down fences, homes, knocked down massive trees, and damaged power transformers and stations, knocking out the power for hundreds of thousands of people in our area for multiple days.

While this storm was by no means the end of the world, it certainly was an unexpected turn of events. Living in the dark for multiple days made me realize how much I depend on electricity, light, and heat to function, especially in the dark, cold winter months. In some ways, last week reminded me of the Covid-19 mandatory lockdowns when Washington state mandated a stay home order. It was like God had pressed a giant “pause” button and opened space for me to slow down and simplify my life. When my workplace is closed and there is no power, light, or heat, it turns out there is not very much I am able to do.

While the power outage was not without its challenges, I found myself grateful for the change of pace and perspective. Normal activities such as connecting to the internet, getting gas, or finding a hot meal were suddenly more difficult. However, with my workplace being closed, I was able to save gas and regain my commute time. With every appliance and device in my apartment turned off and every light dark, I was able to have greater quality and quantity of sleep than I normally do, which was helped me feel well rested. I was able to catch up on reading and have some slower weeknight evenings. I was able to check on my family members and go for a run in the daylight, which is a luxury in the winter. But none of these things would have happened if there had not been a power outage.

This disruption in my life gave me a new perspective: I realized just how much I rely on light, heat, and technology to carry out my daily activities. I noticed truly how dark are the depths of a winter night, with no light at all to penetrate the darkness. I experienced a new level of quiet, sitting in the silence of a city with no electricity. I found myself grateful for the disruption itself, for without it, I would have carried on just as I had been doing. On those cold, dark nights, I found God moving my heart into gratitude and thanksgiving, not just for material things like light and heat, but also for the gift of his abiding presence. In the darkness, I thought about the light of Christ, the way the hope of the gospel cuts through the deepest darkness of our souls, illuminating that which we try to keep hidden and bringing truth to light. I felt God cutting out the noise and distractions in my life, taking those quiet mornings and evenings to open my Bible and truly focus on the Word.

The power outage was a disruption that I did not choose, but one that I needed. It’s natural for us to fall into rhythms, ruts, and routines. We tend to stick to what is comfortable and familiar, and too often we can find ourselves doing the same things day after day. While there is comfort and necessity in our daily routines, my hope is that we can embrace disruptions with grace, and that we can discover the fresh perspectives hidden in the most unexpected moments of our lives. My hope is that we would not only embrace disruption but find ourselves even seeking out the unfamiliar and abnormal. Go to the new restaurant, walk down the other side of the street, talk to the person you’ve seen a hundred times but have never spoken to, book the trip, read the book, take a break from your phone and just listen to nature. What would it take for you to break out of your deeply embedded ruts and routines?

As we approach the end of 2024, many people will start thinking about the changes they want to make in their lives in the new year. As I think about the next chapter of my life, I find in myself a desire to ask God for more disruptions. Not because they are convenient, or easy, or even comfortable, but because they help me see my life, the world, and other people in a new way.

I have found that disruptions to my busy life often result in quiet, slowness, stillness, or stopping, which is what God knows that I need to realign my heart with him and to love people the way he does. Embracing disruptions deepens my gratitude and my awareness of God’s grace, allowing me to gain a fresh perspective on what he is trying to do in me and in the world. We all need those reset moments and perspective shifts, to reawaken us to gratitude and reconnect us with how God wants to use us in his plan to redeem the world. The desire for God to disrupt our lives and reawaken us to his vision is beautifully illustrated in this poem by Sir Francis Scott Drake:

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.

We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.

Attributed — Sir Francis Drake — 1577