I couldn’t sleep. I lay in my bed, knowing that I had to be up at a quarter to four to serve middle-class people from the suburbs their coffee. I had to get some rest. Besides, eight hours of class waited for me after work. I’d be a pathetic human by that point if I didn’t get any shut-eye.
Whenever this happens, or when I wake up without any clear cause, I assume that the Almighty wants to have some sort of conversation.
“God, are you there?”
I didn’t anticipate any audible answer, but waited. I could hear the lapse of each second by the tick of my watch on my desk. I rolled over. “If you’re around, you’re free to do what you want.” Still nothing. Maybe I had gas. Something internal like that had to have roused me from my sleep, because clearly, God was not there. I considered hitting the Tylenol PM, but I’d likely miss work or hit a parked car on the way if I did that.
★ ★ ★
It’s easy to confuse God’s silence with His absence. Perhaps it’s because He doesn’t have a body. It’d be creepy if a friend sat in your dark bedroom, silent, not letting you know they were there (been there- it truly was awful). But I think God occasionally does just that. David asked,
Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
(Ps. 139:7, ESV)
Perhaps it isn’t so much a matter of God quietly sitting in on our little world as it is a matter of us never leaving His presence. But we’re simple and our discerning of His “voice” is easily one of the most concrete (though not quite) ways to experience this ubiquitousness.
There’s a page in the Bible that divides the testaments. It represents four hundred years without a prophet- without God’s voice. But we can hardly believe that He’d taken a long vacation, or had simply chosen to step back from everything for centuries. It seems that if such were to happen, this place truly would fall apart. I’m not sure He could let Himself do anything like that. But that’s only speculation.
Regardless, think about this when you’re awake against your will at two in the morning and you’re asking God to talk to you. Consider Psalm 139 when you can’t hear what He has to say or it sounds like you aren’t getting a response to any of your prayers. Then pull your head out because you’re probably living in sin and that’s why you can’t hear Him (totally, mostly kidding-always).
I do that. Wake up and immediately think God’s trying to get my attention or that I’m supposed to be praying for something or someone specifically. I’ve never assumed its gas, but I usually have to pee.
“I usually have to pee.”
It’s one of those things, I’m not sure if it’s a Christian “superstition” or what (we should write dueling blog posts on that topic, by the way) or if it’s one of God’s tactics, because we’re not really occupied at that time (with texts, games, books, etc.) I won’t claim to understand how He works.
Also, I think listen is going to be my word for the year. I have another post about listening and evangelism/apologetics…. we’ll see. Blessings, friend!
After all the years of practice I’ve had at this game, I now immediately pray. I’ve reasoned laying there that if I’m awake my mind, body, and soul should be praying to the One who is everywhere and providing the life to all living things and purpose to the things that aren’t.
You know, after a relatively short amount of time, I’m back to sawing logs… I’ve tried to change my perspective on not being asleep in the middle of the night. If I’m awake it’s the perfect time to talk to my Father.
Floyd, you’re more mature than I’ll ever be. Waking up in the AM is no good for me. Coincidentally, I wrote this last night and what happened? Ha. God is funny like that.
God’s silence does not equal his absence. It’s a truth I’ve clung to for a few years now. It’s very easy to think his silence means he’s mad at us, or left us, or just apathetic to what we’re going through, when, really, he uses that silence to draw us deeper into Him. I tell my students all the time – if you felt God all the time and heard him every second of every day, would you really grow? You would have just as much of him as you want. It’s when he is silent that we seek for him in new ways…and grow deeper with our king.
A friend of mine used to say “Familiarity breeds contempt.”
I think that statement is a gross exaggeration, but constant presence has the potential to breed indifference or apathy. It’s amazing when we realize that someone (or God) is establishing their absence. It really does have the power to give a presence more meaning…
Honestly, when i’m fighting insomnia, I very rarely think it’s God. I usually think I have had too much coffee and now my thoughts are crashing around in my skull like the angriest of hordes looking to destroy. Very rarely do I think to myself “welp, time to pray.” Maybe I am the worst Christian, who knows. But one of my favorite stories is one the C.S. Lewis told about his recently departed wife in A Grief Observed. He told the tale of her going about her day feeling like God was “at her elbow” wanting her attention. She assumed it was to call her attention to some sin or other such conviction and when she did finally “turn her face” to Him she instantly entered into joy.
In my life I find a tendency to avoid God for fear of the angry judge I was raised to worship, when many times He just wants to spend time with me, building our relationship.
Good and thought provoking post as always Jake. I like that you post almost as infrequently as me.
“Maybe I’m the worst Christian…” Who hasn’t thought that at one point? I think I’ve just been trained to think that way. Someone once accused me of being incredibly unspiritual because I hadn’t ever considered praying when I woke up late at night like that. I nearly stabbed him- FORTUNATELY, it wasn’t that conversation but rather, a handful of experiences that got me thinking this way.
Lastly, I take offense to your very last statement- though, I used to be better at posting. 😉