“In peace I will lie down and sleep for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.”
Psalm 4:8
Snoring in the middle of the grocery store? Sure. Out like a light at the dinner table? Many times. Snoozing down Mainstreet U.S.A. at Disney World? You bet.
My daughter has the gift of sleep. When she’s tired, nothing stands in her way. I may or may not have an entire album on social media of the places I’ve found her sleeping. This reached such an apex at one point, we actually discussed the possibility of narcolepsy with her pediatrician. Turns out, she’s just has no issue sleeping soundly with a lot going on around her.
And while I love the cute pictures of her lights out in the midst of the general public or family life, part of me is jealous at how easily she can doze off. Her mama doesn’t have that same talent.
When life is turned upside down, my sleep follows along. In the earliest days of our family’s fracturing, I regularly found myself awake in the wee hours, staring at the ceiling, fear rattling my brain as I thought through all that might lie ahead.
That’s the thing about fear. It distorts our minds, it creates bigger possibilities for disaster than actually exists, and it is the weapon of an enemy intent upon luring us out of peaceful rest.
There certainly are seasons in life were it would be foolish to not be soberly aware of the depth and gravity of our circumstances. Living in oblivion would not be wise when serious situations present themselves.
So, how do we wisely handle the hard stuff without being robbed of the rest, peace, and sleep we so desperately need?
David’s cry to God in Psalms 4:8 feels more like an active choice than an outcome of his circumstances. He has chosen to place his trust – and his personal peace – in God’s hands.
Just one chapter earlier, David is fleeing for his life – from. his. own. son. In the midst of this crisis, David know where to fix his eyes.
“But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head. I cried aloud to the Lord, and he answered me from his holy hill. I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the Lord sustained me.”
Psalm 3:3-5
In the midst of physical danger – not to mention the emotional baggage that has got to come with your own son hunting you down – David kept his eyes on his only real protector. I get a lump in my throat at the visual of God as “the lifter of my head.” That choice to let God gently lift his chin and look him in the eye is the precursor to David’s rest.
The outcome of resolved circumstances doesn’t produce peace. The choice to acknowledge the danger, the stress, the reality, and the one is our protector produces it.
God please help us wisely process our sometimes hard realities with our eyes fixed on you, the lifter of our chin and source of peace.
