March 5, 2012
Whenever I am afraid,
I will put my trust in you. Psalm 56:3
I am first aware of the effort. Like an exasperated mother insisting to her wakeful child that naptime is not over, I try to will my conscious self to stay asleep. Despite my struggle to remain in the depths of slumber, I find myself waking to the darkened mid night room.
I shift my pillow, but do not drift back to sleep. With more intention, I resettle myself. But rest eludes me and I give in to being fully awake.
I lay the cause at the book I read before sleeping, an adventure with a young protagonist about to step into certain danger. But I know better. It is not some story that disturbs my rest, but a subtle taunt of the enemy in the desert. A whisper that I have left work undone, a foreshadowing of imagined stress to be found in the day to come, a nagging rumor of inadequacy.
I sigh. What trick will calm my body back to sleep? Or perhaps I must simply give in, get up and use the time productively.
Then I remember my own voice, writing to my infant daughter long ago, that the last prayer of the day is not the evening prayer, but the prayer for night waking.
Before I even form the words…
copyright © Anne E. Kitch 2012
