In the Heat of the Night
It’s 11:13 on a Sunday night and I should be asleep. My hopes for a blizzard didn’t come to fruition so at 6:30 my Mom is going to give me my morning wake up call (at which point I will lie and say I’m about to get up…I have good intentions but it always ends up a lie). And although sleep deprivation makes me cranky and emotional, here I am blogging and knitting a scarf.
As I’ve gotten older and been through storm after storm, I’ve learned to enjoy late nights. In my dream world I sleep all day and work all night. Because in the night there’s usually silence and in that silence there’s a bit of peace.
For a very long time the silence that came with night was scary. When you’re losing your mind, silence is your worst enemy. It’s in that silence that I began to make myself believe that all the horrible things that could happen would happen and I wouldn’t be able to control them. It’s in that silence that I began to doubt myself, others around me, and even God. It’s in that silence that I cried out, asking a God that I wasn’t even sure was there to make it better.
And then one day, because God heard me and saw me hurting, He made me see the healing power of the silence. I realized that when the world (my husband, kids, and dog) closed their eyes, I could open mine, as well as my heart and ears, and hear God. The simple fact that there’s no TV in my bedroom forces me to sit in silence. And because I love to talk, I often spend that time simply talking to God.
Until next time…