It was a lovely little restroom, tucked between the lobby and the lounge of a beautiful resort. I had accompanied my husband to a church workers’ conference, taking advantage of a quick get-away opportunity. He was attending meetings and I was on my own, exploring the resort complex. During my stroll, I ducked into this small restroom, enjoying the relaxed pace and the welcome break from my hurried life that affected even the most basic necessities like restroom time! Uninterrupted. No one hollering, “Is dinner ready yet?” No one holding me to a schedule. No dog barking; no phone ringing; no soup boiling over on the stove.
Then, in the middle of my restroom respite, everything went black. I was surrounded by sudden and complete darkness. I couldn’t see a thing. Blinking hard, I wondered for a moment if I had gone blind. Then I guessed that perhaps the power had gone out. I sat completely still, listening for commotion in the lobby. Nothing out of the ordinary. Oh dear. What could be wrong? (And where was the toilet paper roll, anyway?) As I sat in panicked silence, my mind raced through options. Should I call out for help? How was I going to make my way out of here and to my room? If I was blind, I was going to need to learn to feel for things in the dark, right? So I slowly reached out my hand. And PRESTO! Light flooded the small room once again. The motion-sensitive lightswitch was triggered by the movement of my hand.