I awoke at 2 a.m., blinking my eyes at the shadows cast by streetlights outside our apartment. Sometimes it’s 1:30, other times it’s 3, but at some point in the night I am usually up. I assume it’s an age thing.
I’ve learned what to do. I close my eyes and mentally pull out my prayer list. This is as good a way as any to fill the dark hours: I whisper a name, and–because I have no original thoughts at that hour –say the Lord’s Prayer or part of a Psalm on that person’s behalf. I give back to God the words He gave us, for the benefit of someone else.
Praying Scripture is simple and straightforward. It requires only a movement of the heart, a murmur of love on the lips. I begin my prayers remembering people who are probably up in the middle of the night as well: the friend whose husband died a few weeks ago, the mom with brain cancer, the mother of a newborn, a college student.
Read More: A Psalm for Insomnia
I move on to those staggering through financial nightmares, fearful about an addicted teen, in physical pain. If I’m still awake, I pray for politicians I disagree with and people I dislike. That almost always puts me to sleep right away.
Hence I’ve decided that although it would be nice to sleep through the night, it’s okay if I can’t. Every hour of the day belongs to the Lord: He made all 24. If it’s good to worship Him when I’m awake, it’s fine to come before Him half-asleep. I think He’s pleased either way.
