For the past year and a half, rising grocery prices have made balancing my budget increasingly difficult. I have tried buying less, choosing cheaper products, and watching for sales, but there is only so much anyone can cut from necessities. As food consumed more of my budget, less remained for medication, utilities, and other essential expenses.
On August 12, 2026, I learned that ComEd was preparing to disconnect my electricity. My account balance was $804.74, and I needed to pay $459.33 by the following day to prevent the shutoff.
ComEd offered me a deferred payment arrangement, but it required approximately $250 upfront. I did not have it. At the time, I had only $12.50 in cash, which I was saving for medication. Giving that money to ComEd would not have prevented the shutoff and would have left me unable to purchase my medication.
I contacted LIHEAP but was told my income was too high to qualify. This placed me in a frustrating gap: I did not have enough money to keep my electricity connected, yet I supposedly had too much income to receive assistance.
Over the next day, I contacted local government offices, community organizations, charities, senior services, regional nonprofits, and the Illinois Commerce Commission. I encountered waiting lists, paused programs, geographic restrictions, unaffordable payment requirements, delayed assistance, and referrals to programs I had already tried.
By the evening of August 12, I began preparing to lose electricity. I charged my phone, considered which household systems might continue working, and worried about losing the food in my refrigerator and freezer. Rising grocery prices had helped create the financial crisis, and a shutoff could have caused me to lose food I could not afford to replace.
During the crisis, I reached out to my church community. On the morning of August 13, my church made a $460 payment directly to ComEd—slightly more than the amount required to prevent disconnection.
The institution that provided immediate help was not the utility company, a government program, the state regulator, or one of the large social-service organizations I contacted. It was my church community.
My electricity crisis did not develop overnight. It was the result of basic expenses gradually increasing until a budget that once worked no longer did. Having an income on paper does not mean having hundreds of dollars available during an emergency.
I am profoundly grateful that my church listened and acted. At the same time, no one’s ability to keep the lights on—and protect the food they struggled to afford—should depend upon whether they belong to a community capable of producing hundreds of dollars overnight.
