Elusive Sleep

I was 50 years old before I knew about sleep machines. Manufacturers hope these little producers of white noise will enhance sleep for those who struggle to get there. The good ones offer to transform a stress-filled bedroom into the serene environment of an ocean shore, a running stream, a tropical forest or a summer night with crickets chirping.

I first learned the benefits of white noise as a young mother. My babies were never solid sleepers, unless they had nasal congestion. That’s because when we set a vaporizer in the nursery with its gentle whirring, they slept soundly… even when sick. We were onto something and vaporized year-round for a while, until the wallpaper began falling off.

When we learned there was a name for this noise and a machine to accomplish it (without dripping water), we realized other households were having sleep issues, too.

Most sleep machines make radical claims for the sleep-deprived. They promise rich, natural, drug-free rest that can boost energy and improve overall health.

But why is the world so sleep deprived in the first place? Since all of us have tossed and turned through long nights, we can list plenty of reasons:

  • Worrying too much
  • Struggling with pain
  • Thinking too hard
  • Fearing the future
  • Regretting the past
  • And a big ETC.

We crawl under the covers at night, relieved to finally be ending a stressful day, when suddenly the woes of the world seem propped next to the pillow, poking us relentlessly in an effort keep us awake.

Drug stores have racks of sleep aids, and pharmacies carry many more. Hospitals have sleep clinics in which they watch patients in dreamland, trying to figure out what puts them down and what pulls them up. The sleep industry is big business.

The biblical David was an emotional guy, describing in the Psalms his endless ups and downs (including the evasiveness of sleep). But in Psalm 4, after many sleepless nights, he figures out what  to do when sleep won’t come and lets us in on the secret: “When you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent… Trust in the Lord.” (4,5)

When we’re churning at night, for whatever reason, David suggests we say, “Lord, are you preventing sleep because you want to tell me something? If so, I’m listening.” And like David, we can silently wait for God’s response, paying careful attention to our next thoughts. We might even be thankful we’re awake to hear what he has to say.

During noisy days, it’s difficult to hear him. In a dark bedroom, even with a sleep machine running, we tend to hear much better. By morning, we may have accomplished something far more important than any over-full day can achieve.

Maybe if we listen carefully, we’ll hear him say, “Turn off the white noise now. No more hard-to-sleep, just sleeping-hard instead.”

“I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.” (Psalm 3:5)

Family Similarities

I love looking at baby pictures of friends’ grandchildren, studying pudgy faces in search of resemblances to parents and grandparents. God often weaves physical characteristics through the generations in a way that’s familial but new.

Grandparents have the delightful perspective of being one-generation-removed from the new babies that arrive. We’re involved with our grands, to be sure, but are no longer on parenting’s center stage.  Watching from the wings, we can observe similarities and differences, strengths and weaknesses that parents are often too busy to see.

As a young mom, my focus was getting the job done, whatever the moment demanded. Pausing to contemplate the inner-child required a slow-down I couldn’t afford. Now, as a grandma, I have the luxury of watching and listening. The more I study children, whether my family’s or others’, the more I appreciate God’s handiwork, particularly his unending design creativity.

Despite similarities through the generations, he never runs out of ways to make each individual unique. After creating trillions of people, he’s still enjoying his work-in-wombs, knitting together DNA strands of infinite variety.

Our family is looking forward to February, 2012, when we’ll get a look at what God has been up to for 9 months within my daughter Linnea. Who is he sending to join our ranks? What family characteristics will come through, and what fresh ideas will God have woven into this new person?

Craving answers to these questions is what’s partially responsible for Nate and I having 7 children. We couldn’t wait to see who else he might put together and send our way. I wish there’d have been more baby-bearing years so we could have had more children, because as our 7 have grown into honorable adults, I continue to be impressed with evidence of God’s creative flare in each of them.

I believe when we delight in the children God sends us, whether by birth, adoption, guardianship or friendship, we’re bringing pleasure to the One who made them. We can study children the same way the Creator stood back and studied the first human ever made. Just like him we can say, “You’re very good!”

This week God handed me a remarkable new thought. Nate has met and gotten to know our miscarried child.

It was a goose-bump moment for me and probably for Nate, too, when they first connected. Heaven is all about relationships, both backwards (past-borns) and forward (future-borns). On earth we’re limited to knowing only 3 or maybe 4 generations, but heavenly camaraderie will have no such limits.

We’ll get to see God-initiated traits and features threading their way through every generation, all the way back to Adam and Eve. And because he made us all in his image, maybe we’ll even be able to see attributes that began as far back as the Father, Son and Spirit! Awesome thought…

“Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous.” (Psalm 139:14)

In a Round-about Way

When Skylar and Micah were here (ages 3 and 18 months), we frequently walked to a nearby playground to ride a small merry-go-round. It had no ponies, brass poles or circus music, just boards to sit on and painted pipes to hold. Their daddy spun it again and again, and we all enjoyed their grins and giggles.

One day we decided to give them a real merry-go-round ride and drove 20 minutes to a giant beachfront carousel. Although we’d talked about it ahead of time, seeing the massive horses (lions, birds and dinosaurs) concerned them. Both wore serious expressions as we waited in line.

When it was their turn, they were skeptical but did want a closer look. And then we were moving, the kids atop bejeweled steeds with their manes flying and teeth showing. At one point Skylar said, “Can I get off now?”

When it finally stopped, they were both eager to climb down, neither one wanting a second go-round, though back at home they continued to enjoy the simple playground version.

Sometimes less is more.

I discovered that after trying to condense two homes worth of stuff into one. Drawers were so packed they refused to close, and my china cabinet was no longer safe for breakables, which were stacked six deep. But when little by little I eliminated half of everything, open shelf space began to appear, and drawers functioned properly.

I can think of only one instance when more is always better: time spent with God. We’ve all heard Martin Luther’s statement about his daily prayer time. He prayed two hours every morning, unless he faced a busy day. Then he prayed three.

In this high speed era of fast-track education, instant availability, and microwavable dinners, slowing down enough to sit quietly with God for several hours seems unthinkable. Yet he’s the only one who controls the happenstance and opportunity of life. To spend time with him brings direct benefit to us.

But there is some 21st century good news waiting for us on the flip-side of Luther’s long prayer times. If we can’t possibly find two hours, a lesser period of intentional time works, too. God’s influence isn’t limited by less effort on our part.

For example, he can bring eternal life to someone through one scriptural phrase or redirect a life purpose through one whispered sentence. Such awesome work removes our guilt when we wish we could spend more time but just can’t make it happen. God doesn’t want us clocking minutes with him, just to match saints like Luther.

The principle is like being thrilled with a simple wooden merry-go-round, rather than riding on a jewel-studded carousel, anxious to get it over with.

Jesus prayed, “I have made you known to them, [Father], and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.” (John 17:26)