Psalm 3 | Wayfarer

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

Ironic, that I found myself lying awake in the watches of the night. I finally decided to get up. I came to my office and poured out my heart in my morning pages. In the midst of my writing, which typically starts out with me pouring out my feelings all over the page and ends up as a written prayer, I asked God for some encouragement.

Then I opened to today’s chapter.

King David is on the run. Again. For some twenty-years after being anointed Israel’s next King and God’s man for the job, David lived on the lam with a price on his head. Constantly hunted by King Saul and his forces, David lived in a cave in the wilderness and was surrounded by people who wanted him dead.

It’s happening again. This time it’s David’s own son who has conspired against him. Prince Absalom has run a successful smear campaign against his father. He’s politically maneuvered himself into position and pulled the trigger on a coup d’éta. David flees the city. His approval numbers are in the tank. Political momentum is against him. His own son is hot in pursuit and hell-bent on patricide. David is back in the wilderness. He’s back on the run. He’s out numbered, out manned, and the whole world seems to have risen up against him.

So, he writes a song. Today’s psalm.

In the midst of his lyrics, David says he’s getting a good night’s sleep. The enemies surrounding him, his son’s rebellion, and the threats against him are not stealing his winks. “for the Lord sustains me,” he sings. He ends the song by proclaiming his trust in God’s deliverance.

Of course, he’d been here before. As a young man he’d learned in the wilderness that he could trust in God to deliver him from his enemies. Experience is a great spiritual teacher.

In the quiet this morning, David’s example has me giving a backward glance at the road I’ve already traveled in life. I’ve been in, and through, my own personal wilderness before.

Was God faithful? Yes.

Did I make it through some dark stretches? Yes.

Did they teach me anything? Yes.

Were they ultimately a part of a larger plan that only came into focus after I was able to look back and see them with the clarity of hindsight?Yes.

Do I have any reason to believe that the circumstances stealing my sleep are any different than what I’ve been through before?

No. No, they aren’t.

“Deliverance belongs to the Lord.”

If I’m not sleeping well, then I guess I’ve got some faith-building to do.

Thanks for the encouragement, Lord.

I hope you slept well, my friend. Thanks for reading.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Hammer365: 108/257 Grandma's Mantle Clock — Hammer365: 108/257 Grandma’s Mantle Clock (Photo credit: David Reber’s Hammer Photography)

I lay down and slept,
     yet I woke up in safety,
     for the Lord was watching over me.
I am not afraid of ten thousand enemies
     who surround me on every side.
Psalm 3:5-6 (NLT)

I’ve never been a great sleeper. When I was a little tike I was that kid. At 5:30 a.m. I was at my parents bedside.

Come on. Mom? Dad?
I’m awake.
Somebody get up.

I remember my dad marching me into the dark living room. There was an antique mantle clock on the shelf. It chimed the hours. My dad pointed to it.

“Until that clock strikes six. I don’t want to see your face!”

Point taken.
But, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m awake at 5:30.
And, you didn’t say I couldn’t get up. You just said you didn’t want to see my face.

So, I would get out of bed each morning and scamper down the steps to the dark living room where I hid behind the gold rocking chair in the far corner (you never know if Dad might get up early; Can’t let him see my face). From there I could peek around the chair and keep my eyes glued to the mantle clock. I could listened to it tick…tick…tick…tick. I waited…for…it…to…chime…six.

I’ve gotten better about sleeping, though I still have bouts with insomnia. I appreciate the blessing of a good night’s sleep. This morning’s chapter makes me think about the millions of people who sleep each night in terror or in hunger or in anxious thought for how they will survive another day. I think about waking in safety and hope of a new dawn and a new day of uncounted blessings. I think about the joy of seeing the faces of those I love and through whom I am loved (after six o’clock, of course; well, with Wendy make it seven o’clock…or eight).

Today, I’m grateful for sleeping in safety; God watching over me. I’m thankful to be able to enter the day with hope and assurance.