#ThirtyThankfuls Day 4: Sleep.

It’s not an accident that I am following my tribute to coffee with a meditation about sleep. I usually over-indulge on the former when I don’t pursue enough of the latter. But it’s important for my well-being to keep reminding myself that sleep is a gift.

I heard a preacher years ago (I wish I could remember who it was and give him full credit) talk about how sleep is a gift from God to us in order to remind us that we are not God and we don’t have to be awake all the time. Much like Sabbath, sleep is a loving limitation built into the fabric of life, a Fatherly hand on our shoulder when we keep reaching to try to accomplish more and more. Sleep is a reminder that we are but a whirlwind of dust and breath, and each night, we must “die” in order to rise again with the sun. “…He gives to his beloved sleep” (Psalm 127:2b) Sleep is a gift from a good, good Father.

My kids hate going to bed. They fight and they fuss and they resist it with all their might, but their mother and I insist on bedtime. We love our girls and we know what they need even better than they do themselves. They need rest. We make them lie down and sleep for their own joy.

And yet somehow, their “dada” still insists that he is superhuman, that he is beyond sleep. This was my habit for far too many years: an endless cycle of caffeine and sugar and entertainment and distraction and work and stress and toil and ache and weariness.

These days, I both love and fear sleep, to be honest. I’m so often tired, and sleep can be a friend. But when I do sleep for any length of time, my body reminds me what the years of poor diet and little exercise and inconsistent sleep have sown into my middle-aged bones, and I wake up with a groan in the morning, stiff and stumbling as I frankenstein my way down the hallway. (Yes, yes, that’s not the monster’s name, I know.) The inflammation in my joints is the price paid for so much foolish insistence on stubborn pseudo-immortality.

Will I learn from my mistakes and start taking better care of myself? I’m starting to, slowly, very slowly. (Pray for me in that regard, if you follow Jesus as I do.)

The best part of sleep is knowing that my God “does not slumber or sleep” (Psalm 121:4). I don’t have to worry or fret about the cares of this life. I can put my head on the pillow knowing that my God is there standing watch, and I can rest in His abundant kindness.

In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.
Psalm 4:8

#Septemblog Day 4: The Lord’s Day.

I’m not a Sabbatarian, but I have friends who are. They seem happier.

I heard part of a sermon by Alistair Begg recently, in which he described the Lord’s Day sabbath as a time of reading Scripture, praying, reading spiritual books, having spiritual conversations, and enjoying fellowship with your family and fellow believers. He asked his congregation something along the lines of, “When I describe it like that, does that sound appealing to you, and if not, why not?” I think he was assuming most of his congregation would think it sounded boring.

But I gotta admit, after that description, when he asked if it sounded appealing, I responded aloud, “That sounds awesome.”

The last six months have been hard, gang. Good. Full of blessing. But really hard. This season has taken its toll on my health, my family, and my relationships. I’m often exhausted, out of balance, and in need of restoration and recalibration.

I’m not a Sabbatarian. I don’t hold a conviction about it that’s based on the Scriptures. But I have to admit, I’m thinking about Sabbath rest REALLY often these days, because I can recognize one very clear fact: I can’t keep functioning for long when my life has a staccato jazz rhythm of inconsistent sleep and frequent 12-16 hour work days. All the lines are blurring. I’m losing the clear boundaries of work-life and home-life. Things fall apart. The center will not hold.

I’m not a Sabbatarian. Maybe I should be.

Rethinking My Feeds: Sabbath.

architecture chairs contemporary decorations — Photo by Marianne on Pexels.com

(For the record, that is not my actual back porch. But, hey, #HouseGoals, right?)

I spent most of my Sunday screen-free.

I’ve been trying to do that more often, with varying levels of success. This past Sunday wasn’t perfect in that regard, but I’m getting better about it. I noticed throughout the day that I was getting tasks done, I was engaging with my family, and I was feeling more relaxed in general. Who would have thought, right?

While I’m not any kind of strict Sabbatarian, I see the value and blessing inherent in carving out Sunday as a day of worship, rest, and reflection. (And reading–LOTS of reading.) So it makes sense for me to try to make Sunday screen-free as well.**

Online commentary in recent years that examines or critiques our current screen-focused culture often recommends regular breaks from tech as a way of finding refreshment and gaining perspective. (Seriously, do a web search for “digital sabbath” or “digital detox”–ironically, you’d be staring at a screen for ages trying to read it all.)

One of the points that Cal Newport raises in Digital Minimalism is that removing a huge chunk of unproductive (or even harmful) screen-time isn’t enough. Something needs to fill the void, lest we go back to our old habits.

If you’ve been thinking about taking a break from your devices or distractions (whether for a few hours, a day, or even longer), here are a few recommendations for redeeming the time in your now-quieter weekend:

Sleep. Let’s get real for a second: you probably don’t sleep enough. I know I don’t sleep enough. There are all sorts of reasons we stay up too late (maybe related to our tech, maybe related to our anxiety, maybe related to our out-of-balance work-life). So if you make the choice to turn off the screens for a day or two in the near future, please take my advice: take a nap. That thing we all hated in kindergarten is now a thing of beauty and joy, and a gift to us from the God who never sleeps.
Enjoy some face-to-face time with your loved ones. When I stop reaching for my phone to scroll random folks’ text-only communication, I can hear my 20-month-old daughter better, as she learns new words, makes phrases and sentences I can actually understand now, and mixes in babble that she tells me very emphatically (which is seven different kinds of cute). I can talk to my wife about her day and the challenges of being a mom. I can spend time with family members or friends from church, and not be pulled away (mentally or optically) by pings and buzzes. These people, these faces, they mean something to me. I honor that when I give them my undistracted eyes and ears.
Spend time with God. It’s all too easy to be harried and distracted by my daily life so that a thousand petty annoyances crowd out time to read the Scriptures, pray, or read a good book of theology or church history. I’ve been trying to devote my Sunday reading time to things that feed my soul and not just my mind. (That said, I admit I still need to be more intentional about devoting time to talk to God and not just read about God.) Whenever I make the choice to focus my heart on Jesus and not on entertainment or distraction, I come away feeling more alive, not less. More human. More thankful.
Do something physically active. I’m a desk-jockey five days a week. I eat too much sugary food and drink too much caffeine. If you’ve seen me in the flesh, this won’t come as a surprise to you. So my goal for this next Sunday is to do something active. Take a walk. Play on the floor with my daughter. Maybe break out my workout mat and do a quick session with DDPY. (Does that involve a screen? Technically, yes. …What are you, the Screen Police? Never you mind.) I need to make the decision to be more active. No, not *just* on Sunday, but I think it’s a great time to celebrate the “rest” I have been given in Jesus by being active in a way that is refreshing and restorative rather than laborious.

I’m not good at making changes in my life. I’m lousy at consistency. I tend to talk a good game but not back it up well. But if nothing else, I am trying to attain “expert” status at being stubborn enough not to give up on things that I know matter in the long run.

My wife likes to remind me of the verse in Proverbs that says “A righteous man falls seven times and rises again…” While not the perfect contextual application, I think there’s merit in that reminder. Victory, change, and growth sometimes start with just getting back up and starting over (and over, and over, and over).

Sunday is five days away. Can I challenge you to make the decision now that your screens stay dark as much as possible? Then, come back to this post next week and let me know how that worked out for you.

** “Screen-free Sundays, even during football season, Dave?” Yes, I’m going to try to keep it up even during football season. That’s why the good Lord gave us radio.