Of course, “spring forward” would fall on the day you have to leave the house, fully ready for a dance competition at 5:30 a.m. You pack four costume changes in garment bags. Tuck accessories, shoes, and extra hairpins into zippered pouches. You stress-snap a few times as you now prepare for bed at an unusually early hour.

By the time your alarm goes off at 3 a.m., you’ve already been awake several times, anticipating the energy and camaraderie that these competition days are made of, yes, but first, the hour you spend with your open Bible and a present Jesus. You’re nearing the end of Mary Demuth’s book, 90-Day Bible Reading Challenge, which you could read faster, but instead your soul lingers in this sacred hour. You whisper verses out loud. Underline it all. Pause to pray and journal. Kneel in surrender.

Thing is, you’ve grown accustomed to being up early, as well as being wide awake in the middle of the night. Sleep’s been scarce ever since the first round of book proposal pitches went out. You expected rejections, but not a simultaneous diagnosis for someone you love that was praying for miraculous healing.

During this season, you’ve cried buckets all over the place — not because you were sad but because God was near. Overwhelming, glory-heavy close. You fell to your knees because you couldn’t stand. Still, you discovered how differently you know God here. You woke throughout the night with the lyrics of worship songs running through your head, as if you never turned the songs off. Repeatedly, you checked the clock to see how soon you could steal away with Jesus.

That time alone with Him before the rest of the world awoke refueled you — it was, and still is, the one thing you won’t miss.

But now, it’s been a year, and you’re still not sleeping through the night. Calling it quits on getting some shut eye if it’s after 4:30 a.m. You wonder, when you’re restless and willing yourself to sleep, sleep, sleep if anyone else is awake, and frustrated. Googling insomnia solutions. Opening Instagram.

The reasons that keep us up at night are varied and persistent: 

• End stops (we didn’t ask for). 
• Ampersands (that don’t make sense yet).
• Em-dashes (with the rest unwritten). 

We worry. Replay. Pray. Formulate plans. Count sheep. Then, hours until our alarm, we scroll. 

It’s just us, we think. But it’s not. I know because, in the wee hours of the night, you’ve asked me to pray for you. You’ve texted, commented, or “liked” my posts late at night.

Although he lived long before our time, King David was also often awake during the middle of the night. I find that bit of comforting knowledge, scattered throughout the book of Psalms. David’s faith is strong, and often praised, but he’s human and he’s honest . . . and I love how relatable he is as he recounts his fears, tears, prayers, and praises.

He doesn’t mince around agony or anxiety. And he’s forthright about sleep often evading him. Here are a couple verses from a Psalm I recently read:

O Eternal One, through the night, I stop to recall Your name. That’s how I live according to Your teachings.
Psalm 119:55

In the middle of the night, I wake to thank You because Your rulings are just and right.
Psalm 119:62

What tugs at me is that David isn’t worried about becoming sleep-deprived or being awake because of worry. On the contrary, waking hours contain barely enough time and space for his burning longing to talk with, think on, and praise God.

David welcomes his sleepless nights because his soul craves more of God. This is why he can’t sleep — he simply can’t get enough.

I’ve tasted this ache just enough to know that it grows. Certainly, hunger whets desire.

One thing I know is true: There’s no end to how much of God we can access. Right in our everyday lives, with concerns big and small. David must have grasped this . . . and that is why he relentlessly sought time with God.

What if you and I couldn’t get enough of God? Maybe we’d seek Him during the day and at night when we can’t sleep.

Instead of worry, we’d turn to prayer.
Instead of our phones, we’d choose our knees.
Instead of frustration, we’d voice our praise.

So, here’s to holy expectancy. God-perspective. Sweet sleep and, when it evades us?

More of Jesus.

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