It’s 1:20 a.m. Awakened and unable to return to sleep (thanks, insomnia), I’m in the living room, so as not to disturb my slumbering husband. The neighborhood, silence moments ago, is alive with all four of the neighbor’s dogs barking madly at something. From my daughter’s room, I hear Brahms’ lullaby on repetitive loop.
In moments like these in the past, I’ve tried to count sheep. Who does that actually work for? Once that fails, my mind starts running through the week’s coming days and tasks and responsibilities, and that can be hard to silence.
Tonight, as I sit in the rocker/recliner my husband had to have (and we all secretly love), beneath one of the softest blankets known to man, I’m just offering up prayers.
Not prayers to deliver me from the insomnia, nor prayers for the dogs to be silenced once more. Rather, I pray for the intentions of friends.
For our friend Anna, who’s undergoing a miscarriage of the third child she so desperately wanted. For our friends Christine and Kristin, who both just had beautiful daughters. I pray for friends Alicia and Maria and Anna, who all had very rough experiences on Mother’s Day.
For Angela, who is praying for her seventh child on Earth. For Susie and April and so many others who celebrated Mother’s Day without their mothers. For all women who experienced Mother’s Day with a piece of them missing, whether due to infertility, miscarriage, still births, or a child’s death.
In this sleep-deprived way, I use my time to focus beyond my mini-struggle with sleep to bring these hurts to Jesus for others. And the peace of our Lord, who is listening to these intentions, falls on me, and sleep seems attainable.
I’ll take that over counting sheep any day.