Susan LaffertyNew 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.
Resurrection Day 2011. In Delhi, India. We gathered with a body of believers from different nations and people groups.
We came to Christ out of a variety of religions and cultural traditions and family backgrounds. Some repented and believed as children. Others turned and followed Him in adulthood.
Each one’s testimony detailing a unique journey to salvation.
On that Resurrection Day we worshiped together as one, in Spirit and in truth. Brothers and sisters in the Lord.
“Christ the Lord is risen!”
“He is risen indeed!”
The next morning I retrieved and dusted off The Times of India newspaper that landed everyday on the balcony of our second-floor flat. I opened it to the front page. And a striking headline.
“Last word, His Word.” It was a game my college roommate and I played.
After lights were out, our conversation slowed. And one of us would say this phrase. When we remembered.
The other had to share a verse. From memory.
