Go To Bed, Sleepyhead

In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.

Recently, our family adopted a hamster to join our home’s menagerie. Kurt, named for one of the von Trapp children in The Sound of Music, came to us at just thirty days old. He could fit into a half-cup measuring scoop.

The animal rescue instructed us to hold Kurt three times daily as a way to get to know each other. Unfortunately, he’d scamper away under a cardboard hiding spot when the cage door opened and burrow under his wheel when a hand reached down to pick him up. Kurt didn’t want to be held at all!

Over time, Kurt settled into the thrice-daily practice of being held. Though he’d initially resist, once he was safely enclosed in someone’s hands, he curled up into a little ball, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. Every single time, the warmth of the holder’s hands calmed him, perhaps triggering memories of his mother’s safety. Consistent, gentle care could prompt rest.

It almost goes without saying that grief affects our rest after we lose a loved one. Whether we experience unexpected sluggishness or wide-eyed sleepless nights, loss throws off our circadian rhythms and makes rest often hard to find. Moreover, the stressors of life after loss can compound our bodies’ struggles for sleep. We’re deeply tired. But like little Kurt, we keep running on our wheels and running away from the things that can offer us true relief.

While we can’t force our bodies to sleep, we can learn the habits of peaceful rest. A cooler room, no screens before bedtime, and meditative practices like prayer or mindful breathing can all prompt restfulness even when sleep feels hard to attain. Rest can become a goal all its own in grief.

However, the psalmist knows that true rest comes from someplace even deeper than healthy bedtime routines. Only God can make us dwell in safety—safety from our own whirling minds, safety from fears about tomorrow, safety from physical threats and loneliness. True rest comes from trust in God.

Today, as you find space for slowing down, receive that space and peace as a gift from God. Whether sleeping is easy or hard, God is with you in it, offering comfort and sustaining grace. You can both rest and sleep when the everlasting arms enfold you. Renewing sleep may take time to return after the death of your person, but it doesn’t need to be elusive forever. As you rest in God, you can be assured he will give you exactly what you need.

I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the LORD sustains me.

You can go to bed without fear; you will lie down and sleep soundly. You need not be afraid of sudden disaster or the destruction that comes upon the wicked, for the LORD is your security.

A Prayer: God, good sleep has been hard to find since my person died. My body and mind struggle to relax. My fears creep in at nighttime. I take comfort that you never slumber or sleep. You are awake in the middle of the night, and you promise to hold me as I rest. Please help me commit to resting today as an act of trust. Please give me sleep today that renews me to face what you have placed before me. Amen.

An Activity for Today: Find some rest today using a technique that therapists call progressive relaxation. First, find a comfortable, quiet space to settle your body. Whether lying down or sitting with your feet gently settled on the floor, close your eyes and take a slow, cleansing breath. Next, starting with your toes, tense your muscles, hold for four counts, and release. Move from your toes to your calves to your thighs and all the way up your body as each part of you tenses, holds, and relaxes. Progressive relaxation helps you to identify parts of your body that are holding tension so that you can mindfully release it.

A Song to Encourage Your Heart: “All through the Night” by Tom Roush