Night Dread

Two consecutive nights last week, Liam woke us crying in the night.

The first time, my dad was here as a one-night guest while passing through on a business trip. Damian and I had already stayed up far past our usual bedtime praying with him, and bed sounded very welcome at 11pm. Before I could settle myself for sleep, however, Liam began screaming. (Everything Liam does, he does with passion, and crying is no exception.) I finally ascertained from him that his neck hurt, and so I laid hands on it and prayed. He settled right back to sleep, but five minutes later he was screaming again. This time he said it was his left ear. I prayed again, rebuking this thing in the name of Jesus and asking for comfort and healing.

I had just dozed off when the screaming began again. This time I made our head of house get up and come with me. Liam was somewhat hysterical, and we had to work to get him calmed down before we could understand what he was saying. We finally sorted it out: "I asked Him to heal it," Liam wailed, "and He didn't do it!" The poor little guy was caught where we all are with regard to our health. We know He can heal; we are sure He intends to do it; but we don't see it manifest yet. Deep down, as Oswald Chambers says, we are all afraid "that our Lord will be bested" -- that this thing will turn out to be too big even for Him.

That night I was up until 1am with Liam. Each time I made it back to bed and just fell into sleep, the screaming would begin again. Damian laid hands on Liam and prayed for him several times, once anointing him with oil. But after a while Damian fell soundly asleep (his ability to tune out the nighttime wailing has improved with over four years' practice) and I was left to fend off delirious rantings:

"Momo, I just can't wait until morning to go see Grampa Bug!"
"Liam, it is the middle of the night. Everyone is sleeping, including Grampa."
"Well, then I think I just need to take a break!!"
"A break from what, Liam?"
"I don't know!!!"

I did. He wanted a break from the pain, from being exhausted and awake, bored and frustrated. From the night.

He was fine the next day. In fact, he and Parker played together beautifully, despite any fatigue from the disruption of the night before. It was when it started again the next night that I realized something...

I fear the night.

I don't think about it on a conscious level, but somehow I dread the potential the night has to toss me about on billows instead of cradling me in a haven. In the night, as I have written before, somehow molehills that are not even visible in the day just shoot up into mountains.

I don't usually have periods of insomnia, although it has been known to happen. My most recent and longest standing issue is that my body chooses the night to start dumping toxic waste into my blader. I lay myself down to slumber, and no matter how tired I am, no matter how quickly or slowly sleep comes, just as I doze off I am jerked awake by the need to empty the bladder -- never mind that I already made sure it was done properly before I got into bed.

I lie back down and doze off, and again my body insists on a trip to the bathroom. I am likely to go through a couple more rounds before I finally get to sleep. It is as if there is a control issue somewhere, and when I begin to relax my grip on things to let sleep take me, I can't -- or finally don't -- hold back, and there is (whoosh!) a big system dump.

(I hear you telling me not to drink after dinner. It's just not quite that simple.)

It goes on the rest of the night, too. Most nights, I will have to wake up and make a bathroom trip at least once before the night is over. A naturopath would have a heyday with me. It is apparent that there are bodily systems that are not getting fully supported. Waking you up in the night to urinate is one of your body's ways of of shouting for help, didn't you know.

I refuse to keep a clock where I can see it in my bedroom, because I tend to be ruled by the clock. As Damian says, "I have to know how much sleep I get so I know how I should be feeling in the morning. I might be mistakenly perky!" The clock also encourages me to analyze my body clock. Not until the second night, when the screaming started promptly at 11pm, did I realize this is Liam's gallbladder meridian. From what I could tell, he was complaining of something like a shooting pain in his external ear. From the point of view of natural medicine, a weakness in his gallbladder was likely causing an energy imbalance in the body, which by strange cause and effect was triggering the ear pain.

It is not surprising. More corroborative evidence for gallbladder trouble, of which Liam has a history. So when Damian was praying for Liam's ear, I was mentally praying for his gallbladder. But the bottom line is that I don't think it does any good for me to know that Liam's gallbladder is probably weak, or that I am or am not waking up during the liver meridian every night. It is all one and the same: I am helpless, and I need an answer. I have a Great Physician who has an answer for me. So I come to Him with my symptoms, and I leave the treatment in His hands. And yes, Liam, sometimes there is waiting involved. As I said to a friend the other day, the waiting in the dark is the training.

I suspect -- no, I know -- the fact that I am unable to cast myself into sound sleep for a full, restful night is a heart issue, not a bodily issue. When I have had my mountaintop experiences and tasted full surrender to the Lord, I remember literally casting myself upon Him as I went to sleep, the way a tired child would curl up in his father's arms to shut out the world. And my slumber was always complete. But we are given that vision on the mountain and then expected to descend into the valley and live it out.

In so doing, we find rocks and stubble that make the going bumpy. I don't have to look at a rock and analyze just how it got placed right there, or how deep it might run into the earth, or what tools might be needed to get it out, or how I might make a workaround. That rock is just an indication that no fruit-bearing plants can grow here until some divine blasting is initiated by the Holy Ghost. A rock in my gallbaldder, a rock in my soul... it is all the same territory to Him. Yet He commands that I up and take the hill country (He will drive out the enemies, but we have to go up to battle) and turn it into a fruitful dwelling place. He gives us the view of the mountain that, like Caleb, we might take it for our own.

Now that I understand that I tend to fear what the night will bring, I have started saying with David, "I will bless the Lord, who hath given me counsel: my reins also instruct me in the night season. [Ps. 16.7]" I had never understood that verse until this context, but now I understand that I have an appointment with God in sleep, because there He can do things with my heart He cannot do when I am awake -- and the Spirit within me, my reins, is instructing my very body in the night seasons, no matter how it may look like I am entirely going to pot. I have a hope that extends even to my flesh. [v. 9]"

So, Lord, I commit myself to You. I cast myself upon You afresh for the governing of my body, soul, and spirit. Thank You that You constantly maintain the lot that You have chosen for me. No matter how it looks to me, I have health flowing as a fountain from its source in the Sun of righteousness; and no matter what may contrive to interrupt my night of healing sleep, You give rest and grace sufficient for all tomorrow's trials. I confess my fear and doubt, and thank You that You both require faith from me and undertake to provide it for me. I will fall asleep in Your hands tonight.

"And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony. [Re. 12.11]"