You know the hour. The dark ceiling. The glaring lights of the alarm clock. The soft click of the spinning fan. And all your spinning thoughts.
I’ve heard people offer advice that praying often helps you fall asleep. But it doesn’t when the prayers feel too heavy and the response comes too slowly:
Will the Lord reject forever?
Has he left us for good?
Has his love worn thin?
Has his promise burned out?
Is this as good as it gets?
Have we just been kidding ourselves?
Is there any hope at all?
What’s the point of anything?
The writer of Psalm 77 knows this insomnia. His poetic prayer makes space for our spiraling. Even our despair and confusion are welcome before God.
But suddenly there’s a pivot: “Then I thought…”
No vision. No voice from heaven. No glowing, heavenly light filling up the room. Just a decision, made by a man who is not going to sleep any time soon, to think about something else.
Rumination gives way to meditation. Instead of rehearsing his complaints any further, he reviews God’s résumé.
I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. (Psalm 77:11)
Yet he doesn’t fall asleep. The psalm just… ends. Still in the dark. Still doing the math on how little sleep he has actually gotten that night. Still wide awake. Only now with a different focus of thought.
Some nights, meditation is enough of a miracle. Just enough to keep the rumination at bay until the sun eventually rises in a few short hours.
See Psalm 77.