I never intended to sleep all night on the floor.
Last Thursday night began like all school nights do: bath and pajamas, a story and a song. “Lights out in five minutes,” I call as I leave them to look at books alone. And I walk downstairs. My husband and I begin the adult-speak that only bedtime can liberate in parents.
It began like most do but it morphed into a full evening of holding back the hair of my eight-year-old as she vomited the contents of her day into the toilet. It got later and later and I suggested we make her a bed on the floor by the bathroom.
“Mama, can you stay with me?” she asked me after her body stopped heaving.
The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind to crawl back up into my own bed. “Of course I will, honey. “ I was going to stay next to her all night so I could help her to the bathroom, wipe off her face and let her put her head on my lap on the cold, tile floor.
I tucked her into her sleeping bag near the door of the bathroom and at 11:45 pm I gathered non-essential bedding from throughout the house to make my night as comfortable as was possible. I crawled underneath the quilt, cool from the closet, and lay awake in the dark hallway. I’m sure from above we looked like refugees or slumber party victims, and my hips ached from floor-sleeping more than I ever remember them aching when I was eight.
But I wasn’t going to leave her. Not now. I couldn’t sleep. The unfamiliarity of sleeping in a place in my own house that I’ve never slept before and worry about my daughter kept me awake.
We spent a couple more times in the bathroom together before the night was finished. Finally, early in the morning, we both fell asleep. But I dreamed about her, I thought about her and I hoped that she would be well in the morning.
I never set out to sleep on the ground Thursday night, but I did. And I wasn’t going to leave her.
As I collected the bedding the next morning so that the family could move unencumbered through the hallway I thought about the God who never leaves us.
He crawled out of his home and made a home with us on earth. He embodied human flesh and walked with us, ate with us and smoothed our hair on the cold, bathroom floor.
He lied down to keep watch when we were sick and vowed never to leave us.
The thought never crossed his mind.
But unlike me, who finally gave into sleep at 2:40 in the morning, He is a God who never gets tired, never gives us and will always, always pay attention to our suffering. And also unlike me, He intended this from the beginning of the story: to send One who would rescue.
Psalm 121:4 {He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.}
Have you felt God “sleeping on the floor” near you lately?
thanks for the reminder of a God who does not tire or sleep.
the dorms at the university can be a scary place. in the midst of recurring grief, sleep has been elusive. the little that comes my way riddled with dreams that leave me restless and unsettled when i wake.
however, i keep thinking of my God, who is constantly with me, and although the bed i’m sleeping in feels small…He’s there, sleeping and rubbing my back when i wake, reassuring that the day will be okay.
That is beautiful Sol.
All. The. Time. And I don’t know how I would survive if He didin’t.
me neither.
Mmmmm thanks for the sweet reminder. Actually the other night I felt God literally sleeping so close to me. It was the most beautiful feeling in the world. I am safe. Thanks for sharing your heart Sarah!
wow! i don’t know if i’ve ever felt that. wow.
I still love the way you write.
Still.
thanks, friend. =)
I love how you weave together an ordinary (or not-so-ordinary) Thursday night into a lesson about our loving Father. Your writing is so beautiful and seamless…I wanna be just like you when I grow up!
wow. thank you cathy joy. =)
Beautiful reminder. Thank you.
Thank you Sarah. This Monday morning post makes me feel loved. And on a day after Mother’s Day, I miss my mom. My beautiful momma died 4 years ago and I miss her. But as I read your post I am reminded how much she loved me too. And I am very thankful for her sleepless nights for me. Blessings to you.
oh, I’m so sorry Heather.
Thank you for helping us remember and keep fresh His loving presence with us always! I have a daughter who has seizures. As it goes on, I feel Him with us, helping me catch her, protecting her from harm, going through this with us, and watching over us during the nights when I can’t stay awake any longer.
God bless you!
deb
wow, debbie. what a beautiful example you are to me of motherhood in trying circumstances. thank you.
Yes, I feel that way often right now. Some times when I can’t sleep, I like to visualize God, my Father, letting me lay my head down in his lap like a child. He lets me pour out my heart and day and listens, holding me until I fall asleep. It is my absolute favorite way to fall asleep.
Thanks for sharing. I like being reminded that he doesn’t actually leave after I fall asleep. He holds me all night long.
what a beautiful image, Megan. i love it.
So precious! Beautiful analogy!
Sarah, you have such a gift with words. Have you considered writing an uplifting book — a devotional or something like “simple thoughts in an un-simple world”?
hmmm, good idea. no, i hadn’t. until you suggested it.
will you make a gussy ruffle for the cover of the book?
you are an amazing mama. i love how you bring out the teachable moments in your life.
thanks friend. glad to know you’ve stopped bantering with MPT long enough to comment on a blog post.
thank you for for using moments in our everyday life to remind us of the Fathers love and faithfulness. You are an amazing writer with amazing insight. Keep up the good work of touching the lives of the young and not so young.
This was beautiful. I remember my mom doing that with me, staying with me, rubbing my back. Such a comforting image when I lay here in pain, to imagine Him staying with me, rubbing my back, not leaving me alone. I needed this image. Thanks, Sarah.
What a beautiful post. Thank you for sharing this…I needed the reminder and (as gitz said), the image. Picturing it is so comforting.
Beautiful! Thanks for the reminder!
That’s beautiful, Sarah.
As always, thank you.
Nicki