I know I sound like an ungrateful brat who couldn't find anything to be thankful for, and I'm apologizing in advance because, in a way, that's true.
However, you need to know where I'm coming from. I'm an unmarried mother who can't legally get support from my child's father. That sounded wrong so let's get that straight. He wants to support us but I can't freely "get" it because we don't have the blessing of my parents yet. It's a long story but I hope you get it. The point is I need to work hard to provide for our needs and wants.
I don't have problems doing so, to be honest. God blessed me with an awesome job so that I can earn while I stay home with Yuri. It's a job that has provided for us for almost three years now. But this daily power interruptions - it's making me feel so frustrated. It's wreaking havoc on my work and personal life.
God knows how much I avoided making public complaints about these brownouts. I tried to keep a cheerful spirit about it and even wrote a positive post about it, but it's so hard. I get worried. I get frustrated. I feel helpless that I can't do anything to alleviate my young son's suffering.
I have a type-A personality so I always have a plan. I always have a backup plan. But I have absolutely no control over this.
You see, we've been experiencing brownouts since March or April but it wasn't really felt because they didn't last long and they were infrequent. Then they became more regular. Then they became longer.
Just recently, we began experiencing two daily brownouts: 1 was 2 hours long and the other was 4 hours long. Imagine not having electricity 6 hours daily during the summer. It was almost untolerable.
Last Tuesday, our power went out at 5pm and didn't come back until 9pm. When the electricity finally came back, we finally settled in for what I thought would be a good night's sleep. Then, at 1am, I woke up because it felt really hot. The power was out again. Poor Yuri was drenched in sweat and I had to change his clothes. Upon doing so, he woke up and got terrified because he recognized it as "bawnout." I don't know why he gets scared because our room is always dark or dimly lit, so I'm guessing he's scared of the heat. The power only returned at 3am.
On the same morning, our power went out again at 10am and returned only at 2pm. Yes, we didn't have electricity during the peak of the summer sun.
Last night, when I was giving Yuri a sponge bath before bedtime, he told me, "Tulog na tayo, takot bawnout." My son, at 2-years old, already understood the concept, anticipated it, and got scared by it. A 2-year old shouldn't be afraid of anything. They should be brave - even to a fault. But somehow, my 2-year old understood that we should get to sleep early before another bout of power interruption occurs again.
To add insult to injury, starting today, we have to suffer 7.5 hours of brownouts daily. That's almost 8 hours. What's next? 10 hours? 24?
Sometimes I fantasize about moving to another place, but that's just what it is: a fantasy. Sometimes I just want to curl up into a fetal position:
Okay, that was just an excuse to include Yuri's adorable photo here. #comicrelief
Kidding aside, I want to say it's unfair. I want to cry foul. Especially when I hear about other areas in the city that don't experience brownouts as long and as frequent as we do. But the reality is that many provinces in Mindanao also experience what we experience, some even worse. I have no right to complain.
But I also have my own reality to worry about. My reality is that my laptop, even if new, can only afford me a little over 2 hours of work. My reality is that, as a freelance worker, I do not get paid if I do not work. My reality is that, as a single mom, this is major bad news.
My reality is that I am alone taking care of Yuri at night. My reality is that I cannot change his sweat-drenched clothes and fan him at the same time. My reality is that I have to hold him carefully when I go downstairs to seek a cooler area in a completely dark night. My reality is that I'm the only one who can appease him when he cries because he's terrified. His tears and sweat combine, and as a mom, I feel oh so terrible. My arms ache when I use the handfan as an attempt to make his sleep comfortable, but I don't even have time - or, frankly, the energy - to think of my own comfort. This is my reality.
Lord, just like how I physically comfort my son, I know You want to spiritually comfort me. And I really do feel Your comforting spirit in the dead of the night. I yearn to seek Your presence as I am alone. I know you know how I feel because You've been through a lot worse. And while You keep reminding me to have a gentle and thankful spirit in these trying moments, You also tell me that it's okay to feel helpless. That I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Well, I really should feel helpless, shouldn't I? After all, it's all out of my control. It's You who are in control and You are in charge.
Lord, it's terribly difficult, but I'll keep holding on to Your promise that, just like how I carry my son downstairs barely seeing anything, You will carry me through every rocky path. Unlike me, though, You see everything, including my future.
If my son can trust me, how can I not trust You?
Finally, I'll hold on to what You keep telling me that all things that happen to me You will use for my good and for Your own Glory.
Amen.
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