In every issue of Clarity, we’ll have a reflection from one of our volunteers. This time, it’s Abi’s insight during a power-cut and family improv session…
We had just warmed up our baby’s milk and were settling him to bed, when the power went out. The two big kids found their torches, we hooked out the camping lanterns and settled down for a cosy bedtime hour…
As the power outage crept on to the two hour mark, Twitter informed us there had been a cable fault in our local area. We continued our impromptu date night chatting about books and podcasts we’d been enjoying, and when hour three passed we realised this was a long stay. I’d had the thought to take some milk out of the fridge for our one year old, hoping it would be more room temperature by the time he wanted it. But when he finally woke hungry in hour 4, the milk was not to his liking and he was cross. Not used to not getting what he wanted, he screamed. And screamed! For an hour we battled with comforting our hungry baby boy, taking it in turns to rock him or attempting to warm the bottle between our legs beneath the covers. Eventually, he gave up and fell to sleep in my husband’s arms having had no milk.
As I lay there calming down from the ordeal, it struck me that to some parents around the world, that is an everyday occurrence. Where there is famine or war or poverty, children go to sleep crying with hunger every night. And their parents comfort them with tears of hurt, sadness and pain. Having milk available and able to be warmed to the perfect temperature for our little ones is such a privilege which I have taken for granted.
As the power returned, over 5 hours after it went out, the house lit up like a beacon. I thanked God for how rich and safe we are and I pleaded that He would provide for the other crying babies in the world who need milk in the night.
Image credit: Freepik
Subscribe to our emails
Subscribe to our mailing list for insider news, product launches, and more.