I just walked back inside my small apartment. A fire alarm woke me up. Quite rudely, I might add. I woke up to the shriek of a serious sounding alarm. Fire. Disbelief. Desire to roll over and fall back asleep. Shrieking alarm. So I woke up and checked my ceiling alarm. Yup, it was shrieking. I got dressed in a hurry, grabbed my wallet and my car keys, and exited the apartment. As I descended the stairs I observed a crowd of equally disheveled inhabitants trying to make sense of it all. The shrieking alarm continued. Soon, a fire truck pulled up, lights flashing in an undulating swirl of blue and red. False alarm, apparently. Relief. Temporary sleeplessness. Good thing I get to sleep in tomorrow.
For my part, I am just glad everyone is safe. I met and connected with more people in the fifteen minutes of confusion then I had in the past week of normal living at the apartment. Crises will do that sort of thing. Yet when the alarm stopped, so did the communication. Everyone simply trudged back to their homes. Can’t say I blame them at this hour. Maybe later I will think of a penetrating point of application for ministry. Right now, I just want to forget about Mr. Murphy’s late night rudeness and try to recover the pleasant slumber which I had been visiting. But not before uttering a prayer of thankfulness for God’s protection.