The Good Shepherd Gives and Takes Sleep
It’s 2:34 a.m. My room is faintly lit by tiny, glowing LED lights recharging for tomorrow. I wish I could shut down, plug myself in, and crawl my way toward 100% capacity like my phone. Instead, the adrenaline surges through my now awake body with an inescapable sense of dread. Not again. Yes, it’s happening again. The loneliness of this dark room grips me in its clutches as I notice the hum of the refrigerator, the swooshing car that just sped past, and my dog obnoxiously lapping water from his dish. I fail to get comfortable, and my body and mind are ready for a new day to begin. The clock tells me otherwise—it’s now 3:45 am.
This doesn’t happen every night, but insomnia has become a friend who tries to stick closer than a brother. Some nights I’m tired enough to drift off after a couple of hours of listless tossing and turning. On other nights, I simply get out of bed at 3:00 a.m. and start my day. There’s a faint hope that my body will realize the time and start the cascade of falling asleep again before my 6:30 a.m. alarm. Usually, this happens. Sometimes it doesn’t.
Insomnia filters the world with a darker hue. Yet, the light shines in the darkness.
Though I keep the lights dim while I’m limping through these middle-of-the-night adventures, the Light of the world shines bright. On the verge of tears, I often utter the weak prayer, “Lord, help me get through this.” The Holy Spirit groans on my behalf with groanings too deep for words, and I know my Good Shepherd doesn’t leave me to wander in the pitch-black shadows all alone. He is here with me.
When insomnia creeps in at 3:00 a.m., my theology becomes more concrete than ever. The Good Shepherd tells me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). Having a good theology of suffering is easy when I’m feeling strong and self-sufficient. I think to myself, “Look at God pouring out abundant grace” in my successful and prosperous days. Leaning on the everlasting arm comes when I’m sleep-deprived, irritable, and just want to get some shuteye before our little ones start stirring tomorrow morning.
Though my struggles with poor sleep are minuscule when compared to the intense suffering of many other believers, they still draw me to rely on God. I’m forced to cling to biblical promises and cry out in faith for the Lord’s help. When sleep becomes an infrequent visitor who leaves in a hurry, I remember my God who never sleeps (Ps. 121:4). He lingers to keep me company, even during the night watch. He comforts me until I drift off and greets me as the sunbeams burst through my curtains, beckoning me to look for new mercies.
My sleep struggles point me to the goodness of sleep. My desire for deep sleep is not contrary to God’s will but is rather a common experience for believers throughout the ages (Job 4:13; 33:15). The Spirit reminds me that it’s possible, even amid fearful circumstances, to lie down and sleep in peace (Ps. 4:8). As a beloved child of God, when I’m able to sleep well again, I can rest assured that God will keep all of creation intact while I’m unconsciously unable to do anything (Ps. 127:2). As I pursue wisdom and discretion, I am reminded that my sleep will indeed be sweet, even if the sleep is shortened by a health condition (Prov. 3:24). I rejoice in knowing that God shows tender mercy by allowing us seven to nine hours of slumber each night. Yet, when my sleep gets disrupted, God is still good.
Lying awake at night has also been a sobering reminder that not all sleep is good sleep. We can use sleep to soothe convicted consciences. The Bible speaks of those who are so bent toward evil that they can’t sleep unless they’ve disrupted someone’s life (Prov. 4:16). Poverty quickly ambushes the sluggard who is too drowsy to notice (Prov. 6:9–11). Some people overindulge in sleep when they should be up gathering the harvest (Prov. 10:5). Slothfulness makes sleep deeper—especially for the person who is both lazy and loves to sleep (Prov. 19:15; 20:13). Sometimes we even sleep because we’re running from God’s call on our lives; just read Jonah’s story (Jonah 1:1–6). Like the sleepy disciples, there are times to fight sleep in order to pray and not fall into temptation (Matt. 26:36–46). Long story short, a long night may not always be something we should lament.
Jesus slept. Though the gospels don’t specifically mention episodes of Jesus sleeping, other than that nap on the boat, we know he slept because he is fully human. He knew how it felt to drift into several hours of unconsciousness after a hard day’s work. From childhood until his death, Jesus had a natural drive to sleep at the end of the day just like the rest of us. There were undoubtedly nights that Jesus’s sleep was sweet. And yet, we know Jesus pulled some all-nighters, too. He frequently went to the mountains to pray, and on at least one occasion, he spent the night praying to God. Jesus slept the blessed sleep of the righteous, but he also prioritized communion with his heavenly Father in prayer even when that communion required giving up a few hours of shuteye.
The Bible’s teaching on sleep taught me two lessons. First, sleep is one of God’s greatest blessings to fallen people. In his common grace, our bodies are wired to need sleep. Rather than forcing us to toil anxiously without hope, he instead gave us a body clock that urges us to sleep and wake up every twenty-four hours. Though we sometimes wish we had more hours in the day, sleep is truly a gift to God’s image-bearers who have been tasked with working and keeping God’s good creation. Jesus took on human flesh—a body that needed sleep—in order to not only save us but also sympathize with us in our weakness.
Yet, even when we lack sufficient sleep, God will sustain us. Though I have sleep apnea and deal with bouts of insomnia, God never leaves me or forsakes me. Though you may work night shift or swing shift, the Good Shepherd still leads you beside still waters. Though you may wake through the night to care for children or loved ones, God is still there to strengthen. Even when you lie awake all night shedding the tears of grief or facing waves of panic, your gentle and lowly Savior sympathizes with your weakness. On your sleepless nights, cry out to the Lord. Even when you lack sufficient words, the Holy Spirit will groan on your behalf.
The Good Shepherd is with us in our sleepless nights, and your lack of sleep is no reason to think otherwise. When your anxious thoughts or fiery darts from the enemy assail you, remember your Good Shepherd. Remember how he cried tears of blood and hung on the cross to pay for your sins. Remember how he rose from the dead on the third day. Remember that he didn’t leave you as an orphan, even on your darkest, longest nights.
Chrys Jones (@chrys_jones) is a husband and father of four. He is a pastoral resident at Grace Church in Danville, Kentucky, and he writes regularly at dwellwithchrist.com. Chrys is also a Christian Hip-Hop artist and producer for Christcentric.