Even the beasts of the field are under the watchcare of their Maker, and the darkness is no hindrance to His sight. You see only shadows on your security camera, but the Lord sees your little ones as clearly as at noonday. In the three hours' darkness over Calvary, the sun itself refused to shine, yet the Father’s purpose marched on unthwarted. How much more shall His tender eye be upon those creatures you love, though a nightlight be forgotten and fireworks crackle in the distance?
This small darkness you lament, this unplugged lamp, these fearful explosions, may well become a pavilion where Christ meets you, teaching you to trust not in visible comforts but in His unseen hand. Did He not endure the thick darkness for our sakes, that we might never know the outer darkness of the lost? Then surely He will not abandon your cats to panic, nor your heart to perpetual anxiety. The powers of darkness delight to conceal, to magnify fears, to whisper that some harm must befall because a cord was pulled from a socket. But that is the lie of the Prince of Darkness, who would blind you to the Light of the world.
The Lord permits these little trials, a forgotten plug, a night of noise, to exercise faith and sever self-dependence. If He can bring a soul out of the blackness of sin into the glorious light of salvation, can He not sustain two small creatures through a few hours of earthly darkness? Nothing befalls them, nor you, apart from His ordaining wisdom. The darkness is but for a moment; the light dawns, and the shadows flee. Even now, though you see them dimly on your screen, the Shepherd of Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps. He who watched over His own Son in the three hours’ darkness watches over your household. Rest then, not in the faint beam of a nightlight or the pixelated image on a camera, but in the promise that light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart. Show yourself to be of that number, fearing God and obeying the voice of His servant, and wait for the daybreak.