Sleepless

Friday Newsletter #52

Photo by Luke van Zyl on Unsplash

Hi there,

How long does it take you to fall asleep?

This past week, there were two nights I lay awake thinking until around 2 am. (much longer than the usual half hour).

I tried everything, except counting sheep, to fall asleep—prayer, being still, recitation, breathing exercises. I even experimented with not trying at all.

Nothing helped.

While the "you're not going to be able to function tomorrow" alarm kept going off, Ricardo slept peacefully beside me—which prompted me to think about all the ways we are different, and then to wonder how on earth he falls asleep between one and five minutes after saying our good-night-I-love-you’s.

I’m not exaggerating. There are times he is making sleep sounds within seconds of closing his eyes.

So, I just did a quick interview with Ricardo on this and learned that his abrupt transition from wakefulness to sleep happens without any intentionality on his part.

He did, however, report that occasionally he also lies awake thinking—usually because he's concerned about specific loved ones.

"It's not the concern that keeps me awake," he said, "it's thinking about it."

OK. I'm not sure I fully get that distinction, but here's what he said when I asked what makes him think about it.

"Probably thinking I can resolve it that way."

Yes. I get that. Thinking, infused with a splash of imagination, can really make a person feel like they’re doing something, changing things, coming up with fool-proof strategies (which, of course, look completely different in the light of day).

Perhaps it takes longer to sleep the more things we have to think about.

The past two weeks have been packed with concerns: a dear friend learning she has a tumor, a undeliverable email highlighting ruptured relationships, a phone call with disappointing news, a child bravely learning to push against the hard exterior shell that prevents flight, the growing list of things to do for my one-month-old myofascial release practice. Etc.

It’s hard to rest when you can’t sleep. It’s also hard to sleep when you can’t rest.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all be more like Jesus, who fell so soundly asleep in the stern of a boat that soaking rain and booming claps of thunder didn’t rouse him? (Gospel of Mark 4:25-41)

(I’m always comforted to note that, like a parent tuned into their child’s cry, Jesus did, however, wake right up when his disciples yelled for help).

But we aren’t Jesus (which is the whole point, the reason we needed him to come do it right on our behalf). Jesus knows who he is, is sure of his calling, and has complete confidence in God. The disciples are in the process of coming to know Jesus and are discovering that they can trust him.

Through experience we come to know what it feels like to trust God—and then it’s easier to rest. It didn’t happen overnight for the disciples, but it did happen—and it will for us also.

It’s a process and God does not rush us.

One less thing to be concerned about.

And Jesus had his own sleepless night.

It turns out that knowing your purpose and trusting God doesn’t guarantee that you’ll live in a state of blissful peace and rest all the time.

Late on a Thursday night, we find Jesus in a garden, pleading with God to release him from his calling, pleading for permission to let go, to rest, and to not go through with the crucifixion.

The internal stress is so intense that capillaries burst and drops of blood slip through Jesus’ sweat glands, dripping onto the earth where they are soaked up.

I picture Jesus digging his nails into the earth, face down, the dew dripping from the olive trees overhead as if weeping for their Creator.

Maybe Jesus felt the urge to beat his chest. Maybe he wanted to sink into the ground and bury himself away from the torture ahead—to stop the increasing sense of separation from God, from comfort, from security, and every hopeful feeling.

Sometimes, there is a big struggle before we can rest—a process for which there is no safe shortcut.

Rest is not escape.

Lying sleepless in bed may be part of a process for some of us.

And in that process, we are learning to trust, to accept what we cannot change, to let go of expectations, and to to take a completely different kind of action than we are used to taking.

It is the rest of the week—and once again, God rested from his work, the restoration of creation. This is the day Jesus rested in the tomb.

Sometimes rest looks like death, or waiting—waiting to make it through to the other side of death.

We have the offer of rest and the hope of resurrection.

Happy Easter.

Until next Friday,

Alicia