Lights Out

I wake up before the sun - oh wait, you already knew that, because no matter how long I live I will never stop complaining about it - which means that I walk around in darkness until I've left the bedroom, closed the door behind me, and can safely turn on the light without waking the boys in my house.

When you're aiming for "don't let the light in their eyes" you turn on only the absolutely necessary lights and no extras.

This morning I flipped my regular switch and only one of the two assigned bulbs turned on.

Light bulb changing is strictly a "man job" in my house. It requires a great big man ladder which has to be hauled up from the garage, and you have to climb up WAY past the second rung of the ladder (which is my limit...) and usually the light fixtures have some kind of disgustingness in them. All of that is clearly not women's work.

But this particular bulb is above the staircase in the vaulted ceiling and I wondered if even the man in the house would be able to get to it. How did they even get a bulb in there in the first place?

I left the house thinking about the surrounding lights that could just cover for this one, because some light bulbs simply cannot be replaced. Sometimes when the light goes out there simply is no fixing it.

Which made me think of the atonement.

I like to think that when my personal lights go out, there is always, always a way to replace them. 
No matter how high the vaulted ceilings are. 
Even when it's over a staircase. 
Even when getting to it seems WAY past my limits (which are admittedly pathetic).
Even if it requires finding all kinds of disgustingness. 
Even if I have to haul out the big equipment from the depths of the garage.

No matter what it is, or how hard it seems, the atonement of Jesus Christ can cover that. My lightbulbs can always be replaced.