The Night the Power Returned

Elena Ramirez had lived in the dark for three days. Hurricane Maria had torn through her neighborhood in Bayamón, Puerto Rico, in September 2017, and the power lines lay tangled in the streets like fallen vines. She stumbled through her house by memory — bruising her shin on the coffee table, knocking a glass off the counter, eating cold rice straight from the pot with her fingers.

Then on the third night, the generator her neighbor Carlos hauled up the hill hummed to life. Light flooded her kitchen. And Elena didn't just celebrate — she cleaned. She saw the shattered glass she'd been stepping around. She noticed the mold creeping along the windowsill. She found the spoiled food in the open refrigerator she'd been ignoring. The light didn't just make her feel better. It showed her what needed to change, and it gave her the ability to do something about it.

That is exactly what Paul describes in Titus 2. The grace of God has appeared — like a light breaking into a darkened house. And that grace doesn't simply comfort us in our mess. It teaches us. It shows us the shattered glass of ungodliness we've been stepping around, the slow rot of worldly passions we've learned to ignore. Then it empowers us to clean house — to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives, not someday in heaven, but right now, in this present age.

Grace doesn't leave us stumbling in the dark. It switches on the light and hands us a broom.