There is no clock in the room. It is still dark and even though my husband and two dogs are taking up 80% of our sleeping space, I feel alone. Time is suspended.
I try not to think. Thinking stops the clock. The minute hand of sleep will not return leaving me alone in the dark with my thoughts for…
…for what?
…eternity?
…the next few hours?
…or is it only minutes?
For the sun will rise on a sleepless night. It always does.
Yet, our mind plays tricks on us and tells us that the dark means we are tired and burdened. That we will stay tired with sleep deprivation; peace stolen by the long restless night.
I used to try to fight it. As if staying in bed tossing and turning showed my perseverance against Satan. It also signified my faith that God was waiting in the sunrise.
Then one day I didn’t fight. I didn’t try to stop the recurring thoughts whirling through my head, over and over, like a broken record. I didn’t try to stay in bed until the time reached the seven hours of sleep I was hoping to get.
I remembered who God is. That He isn’t bound by night or day. I can reach out to him through the shadows and find His hand.
I remembered that I am never alone. Whether in a sea of people or the solitude of a sleepless night, He is always with me.
I got up and created a special time for He and I. My ritual for our talks is through pen and paper. With legs curled underneath me, a blanket to warm my soul, I share all thoughts with my Savior.
Through pen and paper the thoughts dissipate as they appear in ink. Jesus receives them and faithfully responds. I realize in my prayers that nothing is different in the dark. The problems haven’t worsened. The outcomes haven’t changed course.
The sleepless nights that I used to dread have become treasured moments of closeness with Christ. Where I am fully aware of His presence and my need for Him in the darkness and the light. I find new perspectives in the quiet listening for His response.
What used to seem like an eternity of being awake in the dark soon comes to a close as His peace permeates my stubbornness and I am able to shut my eyes and find sleep.
That relaxed state that comes from knowing that the sun will surely rise, even on a sleepless night.
Thanks Sue, that is so comforting to hear from you.It definitely comes from your heart.