Sleep-Talking

I’m sitting in the orthodontist parking lot, waiting for my daughter, way too early in the morning for any sane appointment, eating my breakfast and waiting for inspiration to hit.  The only thing that’s hitting me is a desire for a nap.  I’m on week two of exhaustion; I am apparently not sleeping well, yelling random sentences out in the middle of the night, completely freaking out my husband.  Last night, I yelled something like, “I didn’t use the sheets yesterday!”

Sleep-talking can be a dangerous thing.  It’s okay when it’s just mumbling, but I could shout out just about anything—my deepest, darkest secrets could be exposed.  Sure, it would be to Chris, and I think he just about knows them all by now, but still, I like to have conscious control over my tongue.

Words, whether written or spoken, have power to harm and heal.  I think about all the words that were said or unsaid that have been discussed in therapy.  Children on the playground, teenagers in the hallways, exhausted and overworked parents.  Words from dear friends to lift me up, the prayers of my husband, the innocent and loving remarks of my children, the wisdom of my therapist.

            The tongue of the wise makes knowledge appealing,

            But the mouth of a fool belches out foolishness.  –Proverbs 15:2

How am I using my words?  Do I go about my day “belching” out every thought that crosses my mind, or do I prayerfully discern what is appropriate before opening my mouth?  To be completely honest, I’d have to say probably a little of both.  In moments of tiredness, cutting and sarcastic words are like arrows at my family caught in the crosshairs.  I might as well be “sleep-talking,” taking no consideration of others’ feelings.   During other moments, I encourage and comfort family and friends (mostly by keeping my mouth shut and just listening).

            The lips of the wise give good advice;

            The heart of a fool has none to give.  –Proverbs 15:7

Sometimes words need to be said that are hard.  I’ve been on the giving and receiving end of those types of words this week.  Words spoken in love, with the best of intentions, received by a teachable heart.  I am thankful that I have friends who are willing to show me when I step awry and friends who trust me enough to ask for the ugly truth.

Gentle words are a tree of life…   --Proverbs 15:4

To speak the truth in love can be painful.  A dear family member showed me this week the bravery and “chutzpah” it takes to be willing to hang your own relationships out on the line to reconcile others.  He spoke the truth with a gentle spirit, believing that with God all people can be reconciled and no one is too far gone to be received.  How often I have given up on others, forgetting that my Father is the great Forgiver, the perfect Reconciler.  That’s what He’s in the business of…bringing people to Him, and how can we remain in discord with each other while being in harmony with Him?  When a love for the Father is our common ground, there should be nothing that can separate us.

May the words of my mouth

And the meditation of my heart

Be pleasing to you,

O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.  –Psalm 19:14

Purify my heart, Father, so that from its overflow comes words of gentleness, truth, and wisdom.  May my heart and tongue please you with not just words but also the motivation behind them.  Make me aware of my words and their impact on others—keep me from “sleep-talking.”

Sleeping on the job

I’m taking another class to be able to renew my teacher’s certificate.  Unfortunately, I came down with a slight cold.  To keep from blowing my nose every three seconds, I took Sudafed.  Despite herculean efforts, I fell asleep in class this morning, and then again in the afternoon.  There are only seven students in the class.  Now that’s embarrassing.  I’m blaming it on the cold medication.

I may be falling asleep in class, but I feel like I am no longer asleep as I go through my days. Over the past week, I have gone through old journal entries and have been shocked to see the state of mind I was in just nine months ago. I was asleep to the world around me, asleep to the extent of my illness, asleep to the harmful effects I was having on my family. Waking up to my need, seeking counseling when I did, was one of the best decisions I have ever made. An excerpt from one of my early journal entries shows the depth my issues:

"Was going to go to bed shortly after Chris, around midnight. Got up and went into the half bath to put my pjs on. Instead sat on the floor (25 tiles, 5x5, nice square) for an hour. Can’t recall why. Chris knocked on the door once, but I couldn’t hear what he said because the fan was on. Tried to pray but just kept counting the tiles. Was surprised that a whole hour went by. Went to bed around one, but woke at four thinking that I forgot to turn off the pool filter. Laid in bed for an hour repeating song lyrics and past conversations in my head while blinking to the syllables. Got up to check the filter around five thirty when I could feel the blood pulsing through my head. Went out to the backyard to check. Felt nauseous, so I ate a piece of bread and took an acid blocker. Remembered that I had not eaten dinner. Went back to bed around six. .. . I do this kind of stuff every day and just accept it as a part of normality."

Being set free from the slavery to many OCD rituals is a blessing that is so sweet. Simple tasks no longer need repeating over and over. I am awake to the beauty of a task done once. I am awake to the boundless love of my Father, who was locked in the bathroom with me, and who now celebrates and laughs with me. I can see His guiding hand through it all, even though I couldn’t see Him in the midst of the struggle. I was asleep to His presence, but He never slept on the job. Feeling my pain, He could see the fruit that would be produced through my trials. He stayed up with me all those sleepless nights; He slept with me in the closet.

At a time when there seems to be such tragedy in the world, such discontent among people; I find myself enjoying the little things (like a refreshing nap) and feeling a deep gratitude for the One who comforts the hurting.

Many people say, “Who will show us better times?”
Let your face smile on us, Lord.
You have given me greater joy
than those who have abundant harvests of grain and new wine.
In peace I will lie down and sleep,
For you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe. –Psalm 4:6-8

Supping with "Sinners"

I recently had the opportunity to serve on a Sunday morning.  Not at church, but elsewhere.  With people who would be rejected or judged by the majority of conservative Christians.  I had a blast.  I was not passively listening to someone tell me how to live my life, I was actively following the command of Christ to “love as I have loved.”  Loving can be difficult at times, but other times it flows naturally and freely.  This was one of those free times.  Laughter and pleasure in the company of others.  I found myself thinking that this was the place where God wanted me to be on a Sunday morning; supping with the “sinners.”

It brought me back to the story about Jesus choosing to have dinner with those who were disregarded by the religious leaders of the time.  Why did He want to be with them?  It wasn’t because they needed Him more than the religious leaders.  If anyone needed to know God’s grace and love, it was the Pharisees.  Jesus spent his time with the “sinners” because he knew a good thing when He saw it.  Those who are open about who they are, and who still seek to become more like Christ are the ones who will be actively sought after by the Lover of their Souls.

Part of my journey has been to learn that Jesus will wrap His arms around me, comfort me, and be an active presence in my life as I open up more to others.  Living life is not a solitary exercise, but a struggle to be undertaken in community with others.  It is comforting to be with others who are also willing to admit that they are struggling too.  I love it when I feel compelled to share my problems with others and they reciprocate with similar struggles.  I’m not happy that they are also struggling; I am happy that we have made a connection point, a place to share and be safe with each other and know that we won’t be judged.

Something else I am learning is that I thrive on being helpful and useful to other people.  Now that I am unemployed, it could very well free up my time for more impulsive times of usefulness.  Helping at a moment’s notice is thrilling, but only when I am not burnt out or bogged down with other responsibilities.  I have lived a very structured, scheduled life for six years, and it could be fun to have the freedom in a day to go and do whatever I am led to do without worrying about the time.  Thinking about Jesus’ time in ministry, it appears that the most amazing and wonderful moments occurred when He just followed the prompts of His Father and acted accordingly.  The Sermon on the Mount wasn’t a scheduled and publicized event.  No flyers were passed out, it just happened.  Or how about the time when Martha got mad at Mary?  Jesus must have spent a lot of time relaxing at their home for Mary to feel comfortable hanging out with the guys and for Martha to get all grouchy about it.

Listening to the still, small voice and acting upon its promptings; releasing myself from religious obligation to be able to better serve others; finding joy and peace in the middle of my mental storm.  These are all things that He is teaching me through this season in my life.  “Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do.  I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners.”  (Mark 2:17)  Father, I am one of the sinners.  Thank you for calling me.  As the Great Physician, continue to heal me and use me to help heal others.  Your love for me is overwhelming.  Please continue in Your faithfulness to show me Your way and lead me to walk on Your paths.