In the Silence of the Night

I wake early again and toss and turn in my bed for a while. I can tell it’s early morning because no sunlight is streaming in through our bedroom windows—and I am groggy. I try to fall back asleep, staying still in my warm bed with my husband lying quietly next to me, but it’s no use. I can’t keep my brain from whirring with thoughts that clamor for attention.

I do the only helpful thing to do: I slowly make my way out of bed and wend my way to our little study to pray. The cold north winds rattle the window panes as I carefully navigate through the darkened house. I settle into the armchair with an afghan and a purring cat, and then I sit in the dark. I have learned that turning on lights keeps my brain wide awake. What I need right now, more than anything, is darkness.

The silence of our house at night always catches me off guard. It’s so peaceful.

I am reminded of the psalmist who penned one of my favorite lines of Scripture, which reminds me it is perfectly normal, human, and perhaps even holy to be sleepless at night: “On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night” (Psalm 63:6 NIV).

To be honest with you, sometimes I’m frustrated with God during these early-morning prayer times. I fall into self-pity and wail, Why me, Lord? Why would you gift me with sleeplessness?

My complaining is normal. Who wants a sleepless night? But I’ve realized that my grumbling doesn’t lead me to serenity; it wakes me up. It energizes me and gets me ready to fight, but with whom would I fight? Me? I’m the last person I need to wrestle. What I need most in those early-morning hours when I’m enveloped in the silence of the house is to allow Jesus to nurture my soul.

And so this is what I do. I notice the posture of the psalmist’s attitude and remember that the practice that turns me from anger and fear, that soothes my soul in these moments, is gratitude. I shift to thankfulness for the One who will get me through this night, who loved me before I was born and who will be with me throughout all the moments of my life, even into eternity. I say to God, I know you’ve got me. Help me to remember that now.

I practice remembering in the silence.

Who brought me through a difficult childhood into a family of faith when I turned twenty years old? God.

Who helped me through the years with a health condition that persists to this day, one that I discovered only two years after I found the One my heart belongs to? God.

Who has been with me every single night, after the heartrending losses, the job stressors, the family conflicts, all the ups and downs life offers? God.

I have also discovered another magnificent truth during my sleepless nights. Silence is not the absence of God but highlights the hidden and inescapable mystery that is God.

My sleepless nights are saturated with prayer. These nights are not times to study him from an intellectual perspective. These times of sleeplessness are primal in their purity. I am breathing in God and breathing him out. I give focused attention on all the things for which I can be grateful: those times of God’s peace amid the painful times and all the wondrous gifts he offers me each day. Time spent with beloved friends and family, delicious foods to eat, time out in nature, dancing, singing, playing. I count those things, and eventually I start to nod off. I return to bed, falling gently to sleep.

I would not wish a sleepless night on any one of us, but I have learned a thing or two about them. Perhaps God uses these sleepless nights to remind us that gratitude and silence are two of the most important spiritual practices to engage in, because they remind us whom to return to in our distress. Thanksgiving creates a doorway of peace in the heart, and silence shows us that God is not absent, even if it feels so. He is eternally present and good. He is the One who cradles us tenderly and loves us always, even in the dark.

Jenn Zatopek is a lover of Jesus, people, and stories of hope and resurrection. A native Texan, Jenn is a writer and licensed therapist and adores deep conversations about God and life over small talk any day of the week. She loves empowering folks through compassion counseling, hiking out in God’s creation, and spending time with friends and family. Jenn loves connecting with others and blogs about faith, psychology, theology, and relationships at theholyabsurd.com.

Photograph © Ryan Pouncy, used with permission