“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
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.
While I love the cute pictures of her lights out in the midst of the general public, 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, peace can be in jeopardy and sleep often follows. 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. These days, I still have nights where I cannot turn off the fear narrative in my head as I contemplate navigating the teen years, healthy social lives in a pandemic, and how to help the male child with his Latin homework.
If I let my crazy, middle of the night mind run wild, we quickly become a family of isolated malcontents and one of the kids fails out of school.
And, that’s the thing about fear, isn’t it? It distorts our minds, creating 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. But even when things are bleak, we somehow have to balance the knowledge of peace from God with the day to day humanness of fear and worry.
So, how do we wisely handle the hard stuff without being robbed of the rest, peace, and sleep we so desperately need?
In Psalm chapter 3, David is fleeing for his life – from. his. own. son. In the midst of this crisis, David knows where to fix his eyes.
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 who is our protector is the only sure path to peace.
God please help us wisely process our sometimes hard realities in an honest, realistic way, and with our eyes fixed on You, the lifter of our chin and source of peace.
