Susan LaffertyFrom a young age, I heard about Jesus and His love. Sang songs about Him. Listened as my parents read Bible stories. Our family prayed often. I was loved and cared for.
And yet.
And yet I was lost. Fearful. Felt the darkness. Something wasn’t right. And I knew it. “Do not lie” seemed to compel me toward that very thing. Lying.
During those first years in Karachi, I struggled to find a place of morning quiet. With the Lord.
We were navigating the muddle of culture shock and power breakdowns. Learning a language with completely new sounds and an unfamiliar alphabet.
Trying to establish a rhythm for preparing clean water to drink. For getting food on the table. Daily.
And figuring out how to parent our children. I gave birth to our first child at the age of 33. And soon experienced what I now refer to as “mother shock.”
New Delhi, 2012. The electricity goes off. Right after a loud explosion. Most likely a transformer that’s blown in the neighborhood.
It’s late afternoon when shadows lengthen and shade our second floor flat. I sit in the dark. And wait.
The mental checklist forms automatically. Honed by long experience. If it’s an extended interruption of power, there are things to do.
