My eyes stay open through the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promises.
It happens from time to time.
In a pack.
Nights of waking up at 3 a.m.
Night after night.
The blue light of the numbers on the bedside clock highlight my wakened state, the two dots keeping the hour digits separated from the minutes blinking in accusatory cadence.
"You should be asleep. You've got a busy day tomorrow. You'll feel all fuzzy and grumpy and you'll drink too much coffee to compensate."
Blink, blink, blink.
My mind refuses to re-enter a slumber state.
Mental index cards of duties, chores, faces, conversations flicker through my thoughts.
And after playing all the relaxation games and tensing and releasing muscles and engaging in deep breathing, I give in to it.
No. Not to sleep.
I give in to the fact that I am awake.
And that's when the conversation begins.
A face comes to mind, a need that was mentioned. I raise a pre-dawn prayer. And then another need bobs to the surface of my consciousness. Another prayer is lifted. And as more people and more prayers come to my heart, I begin to hear the heart of my Father.
I hear of His love for the people He has placed in my life. I hear of His care for them. And I realize that He's up all night as well. Now questions begin to form, the momentum of my inquiries flowing into realizations and insights from Him. More queries are composed. And while I don't always hear explanations, we discuss trust. And peace.
In the watches of the night.
And, yes, when the sun rises, I am tired. And I drink too much coffee through the day. And I'm a little fuzzy.
And truth be told, sometimes a little grumpy.
But I am renewed. To have time to talk with Him, when the house is quiet and distractions are down, when the world is suspended between the day past and the day to come. To tune an ear to the receiver of my heart and to hear His voice quietly speak into my today.
While the blue light of the numbers of the clock keep beat.