I think that I am not alone in this.
I think a good night’s sleep is important, kind of critical, in fact desperately needed. For my sanity. And everyone else’s. Beauty sleep, they call it. Attitude sleep is what I think it really is. And I need it. Especially for Sunday, when I lead worship. When I want have myself together, be at my best, so I can help others to worship their Savior. Sleep is as critical as breathing.
But I think that Satan must love Saturday night.
It’s 11:30 pm. Lights off, my head sinks into the pillow, my body gives a big sigh of relief. I love my bed.
Sadly, Sleep doesn’t come, so I pray a bit, and rest.
It must be just about midnight, when I finally doze off. It is bliss.
Oh no! At 12:10 I am awakened by a mini heart attack as the sound of elephants stampeding through the house quickens my heart to a jolting pace. What’s going on? Is the house falling down? An earth quake? Are there really elephants above me? What?
Oh wait it’s just the cat.
The really old cat who barely, rarely, gets out of bed is running around the house like a stampede of elephants.
Ok, I can go back to sleep. Just as soon as my heat rate gets back to normal.
12:20 Once, again, dozing off and returning to sleep. Ahhhh, bliss.
12:29. A giant thump in the foyer gives me another mini heart attack. Did someone fall down the steps? Is the house caving in again?
Really cat? That was you? You sleep 92% of your life away, why can’t some of it be now?
12:45 Return to bliss after mini heart attack subsides.
1:10 Jolted awake by the sound of a small child’s coughing fit. It quickly subsides.
1:12 Is that more coughing? Do I need to get up and do something?
No, this time it’s the cat. Hacking up a hair ball
On the bed.
Jump up and move cat to the floor to save the comforter.
Clean up the yuck.
Crawl in bed. Sink into the pillow. Relax. I really really love my bed.
1:17 The baby begins to fuss. She’s hungry. Or maybe needs changed. Both, probably.
Tap the hubby. It’s your turn.
No response from hubby.
Tap the hubby harder.
Still no response.
Shake hubby. Get up get up I want to sleep. And my attitude clearly reflects it.
Doze, but not quiet sleep, as hubby feeds baby for the next hour.
2:20 Everyone gets settled.
Head sinks into pillow. Eyes closed. Sleep comes quickly. Bliss. Oh, how I love my bed. Maybe someday, I will marry my bed.
3:20. More coughing. It’s the cat again.
Hacking up a hair ball. In the freaking bed. This cannot possibly be happening.
Move cat to floor to save the comforter. Forget the yuck.
Climb in bed. Head sinks into pillow. Eyes close.
4:07 Eyes pop open. Breath catches. Gulp. Someone’s staring at me. Two someones, actually. Preschoolers. “Mommy. Mommy wake up. We need tucked in.” Ok. Ok. I’ll tuck you in.
4:12 Bliss is tainted by crazy dreams about Target and shopping and houses and elephants and hairballs.
And then the phone rings and rings. Somebody answer the phone. Please. Please because I love my bed and I want to sleep. I need bliss.
4:45 am. It isn’t the phone. It’s not someone calling me in the middle of the night.
It’s the alarm and it’s time to get up.
It is Sunday. And I will do my best with what I have to praise our Savior, and create the opportunity for others to do the same.
But first, coffee. I love my coffee. Coffee is bliss.