I’m not sure why I find sleep so difficult. I rarely enjoy undisturbed dreamy slumber until refreshed after a good eight hours of shut-eye. My mother was much the same, except that she developed the habit of listening to talk radio until all hours. She couldn’t turn off the gossipy clap-trap. Her choice, not mine.

Imagine a full night without waking up with a start. Such a blessing. But not for me. I come round suddenly. Ready to get up and go. What, at 3:38 AM? Not quite. So, I turn over, hoping not to worry about this, that, or the other, as old resentments get replayed in my craw and someone’s nasty comment hangs around unforgotten. Why not catastrophize while you’re at it, Fischer? So, who can sleep?

Until I do what our psalmist does–‘…when I remember you upon my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night; for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy’ (Ps. 63: 6-7).

Instead of worrying, I pray. I think about how wonderful my Lord is. I remember His attributes as a promise-keeper, who forgives and forgets, who loves me more than I could ever imagine. I thank Jesus for our family. Our friends. Churches we’ve been involved in and their pastors and leaders. The world today, such as it is. Children overseas whom we support with some of their needs. And those mission groups, I think the world of, for all that they do for Jesus and His Kingdom.

Guess what? For years now, there’s been no extra anxiety that used to cause me to walk the floors at night. Do I sleep better? More? I don’t think so. Not really. But the time awake is better spent with my God. Much better.

Try it? Maybe you don’t need to. That’s a blessing. But if not, forget about counting sheep. Pray. In time, you’ll start to relax, grab some shut-eye, and nod off into the arms of… Well, you know who, don’t you?

Lord Jesus, you are always with me, night and day. Thank you. Amen.