Before I had children I did not realise what a gift sleep is. Now, after nearly six years of my sleep hours not being my own, I see differently. Sleep is precious and sometimes fragile. I hope I never take a full night’s sleep for granted again and am grateful always for it.
But even in this appreciation for the physical benefit of sleep, I have not until now thought of sleep as a spiritual practice. I’ve recently come alive to the idea that even in sleeping we can be in the presence of God and God can be at work in us.
It is easy to discount the spiritual importance of sleep. If I’d thought about it previously, I probably would have said sleep was spiritually neutral. For me, at least. I know some who often have spiritually significant dreams. But I am not a dreamer like that, at least not very often so far. But, I think, even without dreams, sleep can be downright holy.
For about a third of the hours of my life I am asleep. In those hours, my self-awareness and God-awareness are pretty much shut off. I am not plugged in to God. I am not mentally, emotionally or spiriutally aware of God in any conscious sense. In this post I wrote about about my longing to be constantly aware of the presence of God and frustration that in my busyness and distraction I struggle to maintain that focussed awareness. I was recently struck by how it is pretty much impossible for me to have an awareness of God’s presence while I am asleep. There is no ability to strive for focus and spiritual alertness while asleep. It is actually not possible. I am not really in control of my thoughts and will when in the land of ZZZs.
And that felt like a grace.
For if anything is living in accord with God’s will for our lives, it is having a good night’s sleep. That is, afterall, how our bodies are designed. We drop into a resting state. We power down like an unattended electronic device, only a red LED light glowing to indicate we’re still plugged in. And if we are following that innate wiring of our bodies, we are surely not apart from God when we sleep.
There is a surrender in going to sleep. We must let go of striving and being productive. We must release our foot from the pedal of effort and embrace our limits. And while we’re in that humble place of stillness and silence, the earth keeps turning. God remains on the throne. God is accomplishing his purposes without us.
The Psalmists often emphasise God’s relationship to our sleep. Sleep is described as a gift from a loving God:
In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety (Psalm 4:8)
In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves (Psalm 127:2)
God is active and present when we are asleep:
He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep (Psalm 121:3-4)
I’ve recently been inspired to change how I view my day and my night. In the book Life Without Lack, Dallas Willard encourages the reader to live out a day with Jesus, and begins, in the Jewish tradition, with evening. The day begins with dusk, with the coming of dark and with winding down activity. Sleep takes up that first major chunk of time of a 24 hour period, before the light and action of the day.
This change is just little and is one of perspective. There has been no actual change in how time runs for me, of course. Yet this feels like a deep revelation. There is comfort, somehow, in realising that my part in beginning this new thing is to do very little. There is a release of pressure. I begin a new day by winding down my body and mind. Sleep becomes less about making up for the energy deficit caused by the emptying that has happened throughout the day just gone. Instead, sleep is about being nourished and charged for the day ahead. It is a grace given for what is yet to come.
I have only in the last few months returned to a fairly normal, mostly uninterrupted sleep pattern after years of nights peppered with the cries and demands of babies and young children. And even now a full night’s sleep isn’t always a given. An undisturbed night still seems a wondrous gift, a luxury I am so aware is not a reality for many.
For those who care for others through the watches of the night, who work a night shift, who suffer with pain or with a condition that limits sleep, or for whom sleep is regularly elusive, I feel for you. Sleep through the dark hours may seem a promised land just out of reach. There may be loss in that for you, or ongoing hardship. May God bring comfort and sustenance to you. May God still visit you in the night hours and night be a place of presence, peace and surrender for you too.
Reflecting on sleep, and God’s gift of it and plan for it, has given me an appreciation for God’s part in the abiding. By which I mean, it is pretty much all his part. God is the one who reaches out and enters the place where we are to be with him, even when we don’t know it. He is indwelling, with us, regardless of whether our minds are switched on to him, whether my spiritual antenna is tingling. Acknowledging that feels like a great relief. The striving for awareness of God’s presence and self-castigation for not being aware can end. And the grace of the night may extend to the day also.
To help me consciously enter the surrender of sleep as a spiritual practice, I’m praying some verses from Psalm 91 and a prayer from A New Zealand Prayer Book He Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa each night. I pray that these might be a help to others too.
Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”
Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
Psalm 93: 1-4
Lord,
it is night.
The night is for stillness.
Let us be still in the presence of God.
It is night after a long day.
What has been done has been done;
what has not been done has not been done;
let it be.
The night is dark.
Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives
rest in you.
The night is quiet.
Let the quietness of your peace enfold us,
all dear to us,
and all who have no peace.
The night heralds the dawn.
Let us look expectantly to a new day,
new joys,
new possibilities.
In your name we pray. Amen.
Night Prayer from A New Zealand Prayer Book, He Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa (p 184)
What influence does sleep have on your spiritual life? Does God use dreams to communicate with you? Do you have any favourite prayers to say before turning out the light?
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