Waiting for sleep to come
It's 2:30 am, and I'm looking at my window, waiting for sleep to come. It's a hot night. The fan is at full blast. Its grumbling is the only sound I hear, drowning the the quiet, solemn classical music playing on my computer.
I find moments of clarity as I look back at the day before. The long hours of lecture. The food I ate. The friends I talked to. The new things I learned. And as I roll on my bed, I ask myself if I paid enough attention in class, if I thanked the Lord wholeheartedly for the meals I ate, if I said hurtful instead of encouraging words to the people I interacted with, if I recognized God's gift of giving me a chance to study in a good school.
Before I lose my wakefulness entirely, I must write these down—to remind myself of how gracious God has been to me. It's an exercise I must do regularly—counting my blessings and naming them one by one—because I am prone to complaining about what I do not have.
And as I prepare to enter Dreamland, I say this with the Psalmist, "I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety" (Psalm 4:8). Thank You, Lord, for Your rest.
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