The wee hours

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The house is quiet at 3:18 a.m. Outside, faint rumbles of thunder roll as lightening sporadically brightens the dark sky with jagged spears of light thrown from the heavens. I look outside to see if it
is raining. It is not. But from my vantage point, my heart quickens to see a bear has come to visit, taking a seat by the sidewalk. But alas, a closer look informs my better senses that the black shape I view is simply the garden cart left there after weeding the edges. “Perhaps it is the lack of sleep that fools my eyes,” I think as I paddle bare-footed back to the sofa and the comforter spread out there.

Sleep does not come easily though I wish it to. Some nights I fall asleep only to wake within an hour or two, restless and unable to fall back into the embrace of slumber. Other times, like tonight, I lay quietly in bed, jealously listening to my husband find his rest. When it becomes clear to me that I will not sleep, like a ninja I make my way to what has become my reading spot. There, a book and reading glasses await. The paragraphs roll by until I wistfully believe to be tired. I shift to the couch, arrange the blanket, and anticipate eventual sleep lulled into existence by the soothing, rhythmic tic-toc of the clock.
 
I tell myself to let go. Relax. But soon, no matter how tightly or long I hold my eyes shut, I am as awake as ever. I try the guest bed, but in time find the stillness of the air sans fan to be oppressive. An hour passes before I move back to the sofa. Gary’s snores from the other room have silenced and I am hopeful. But the hope is in vain as my fingers now alight on the keyboard. Oh, how I wish I could sleep.

I used to look forward to bed and the nearly instantaneous sleep I experienced. Now, bedtime is dreaded, not knowing if the wee hours will provide a much needed source of respite and recovery. But in an odd sense, there are times that in the stillness, I put aside my angst for the weariness I am sure to feel come morning. 

The solitude I feel informs my thinking. I share my innermost thoughts and fears with The Father. I ask for clarity and guidance. I plan and pray. I am embraced by the creator of the universe. And that is enough for this moment.

I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me. Psalm 16:7

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