One Blackout, God's Plan

Janelle Peregoy recalls how a conversation with friends during a blackout led her to consider what God might be calling her to after her college graduation.

My family recently experienced a brief power outage. In about the time it took to locate all our miscellaneous flashlights and candles, the lights reemerged.

The brief episode reminded me of a very different blackout.

In the fall of my senior year in college, I was applying to law school. One Saturday, I spent my whole day taking the LSAT. Exhausted after leaving the test, I wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch and go to bed early. Neither of which happened that night.

As I walked into my apartment, the phone rang. One of my friends was on the other line, trying to cajole me to go out with them. I demurred and thought that was the end of it. About an hour later, I heard a knock at the front door. It was my friend who had called, and she brought along another friend. They came bearing hot pizza and sleeping bags. If I wasn’t going out, they were staying in with me.

Sometime after the pizza was gone but long before the melting ice cream, the power went out. That is how I learned that the only candles I had were scented. Suddenly, sandalwood and gardenia were competing for our olfactory attention.

The candlelight slowly elevated a sense of intimacy with my friends. One of them remarked that the subtle glow reminded her of a retreat. We began reminiscing about all the late nights we had shared together on retreats over the last several years.

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Conversations, blackout style

The night took on a confessional quality, with each of us taking turns sharing our hopes and fears about the future. A chapter of our young lives was imminently closing. One of my friends had already committed to spending her post-graduate year volunteering with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps (JVC).

She turned to me and observed, “Out of all of us, I thought you would be the most likely to do a year of service.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The faith piece.”

The truth was, I had been considering applying to a Catholic volunteer program. Yet, I hadn’t fully explored the possibility. Taking a year off to serve seemed somehow indulgent, like it would just be a mere detour from my “real life.” My thought process seems comical in retrospect, but I had really struggled with the idea of venturing off my seemingly preordained path.

That dark night carried on. My first friend snuggled into her sleeping bag, and we could soon hear her soft snores. Less than an hour later, my other friend nodded off. Despite my earlier exhaustion, I found myself wired and unable to sleep.

The candles continued to flicker. They were mesmerizing.

My thoughts kept wandering to the night’s earlier conversation. I could apply to a volunteer program. Even if I applied and was accepted, it didn’t mean I had to go. Even if I decided to go, it would only require deferring from law school for a year. Lots of applicants did that.

I remember praying that night. Though I don’t recall the exact words, I imagine that I asked God to reveal His will for me.

Sometime during those early morning hours, I made the decision to apply. As it turned out, I would complete the application the very next day.

A transformational year

I did serve with JVC the following year, where I spent my time teaching at a low-income, all-girls Catholic high school and living in community with other volunteers. That transformational year, which so deeply aligned with my values, would lead me down a ministerial path. I would pursue graduate studies in theology and later would work for JVC. On a more personal note, I would meet my best friend, Theresa, during our JVC year. We would be roommates throughout grad school. She would later become the maid of honor at my wedding and godmother to my youngest son.

While I watched those flickering flames, I didn’t know what the future would bring. I only knew that I was finally open to discerning. That surreal night released something in me and allowed me to listen to the sense of God’s plan for me.

To this day, I am so glad I did.

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