Wednesday, March 19, 2014

The Safety of Sleep

The calm in the storm.
Image Courtesy of samuiblue / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Some church friends and I are each doing an Immersion Bible Study on different passages of scripture, the idea being to learn as much about the verses and their personal implications as possible. I am studying Mark's account of Jesus calming the stormy sea, specifically His command in 4:39, "Peace, be still." Those three words have provided much-needed comfort, strength, and constraint over the past few weeks.

Though those three words are my focus, I often meditate on the fact that as the waters raged and the winds howled, Jesus was asleep in the back of the boat. I think about the significance of his slumber, that instead of indifference, Christ's rest reflects his confidence that despite the storm's severity, all was well. I begin to see that had the disciples really understood who Jesus was and what his presence represented, his position of restfulness would have been a source of encouragement rather than incredulity.

And this truth hit home for me a few days ago.

As a stay-at-home mom of a very active four-year-old girl, I seldom get a moment's peace. Though I love spending time with Braylee, sometimes I just need a moment to regroup or simply be quiet. Of late, my favorite hideaway is the living room sofa; I sit there, wrapped in a blanket or Horace's black hoodie, and just bask in the silence.

On such an occasion last week, I heard heavy running footfalls above my head and knew my sanctuary was about to be defiled by the adorable cyclone known as my daughter, and I had to act fast. So I put my head down, tucking it into Hubby's hoodie, and remained still and soundless as Braylee stomped down the stairs. I expected that once she realized I was asleep, she would return to the second floor to entertain herself alone.

But that is not what she did.


A synonym for "safety"
Image Courtesy of Stuart Miles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
I heard Braylee approach the couch and felt the dip in the cushion when she sat down. She leaned over just enough to peek at my face, and after discovering my eyes were closed, she copped a contented squat on the floor, playing quietly at my side.

I have since repeated this tactic to see if her initial reaction was a fluke. But each time, Braylee saw that Mommy was asleep and decided to plop beside her and play. Because Braylee knew that whether asleep or awake, Mommy represents safety.

And isn't this the place of trust in Him God wishes us to reach? A place of knowing, no matter what happens, we will lay down in peace and sleep, for the Lord only allows us to dwell in safety? As I listened to her playing and laughing, I could only imagine the delight the Lord takes in my trust, the smile it puts on His face to see me resting in Him. Oh, that I would continue to grow in having the faith in God--He who neither slumbers nor sleeps--that my daughter has in me.

By the way, Braylee soon realized although it is safe beside Sleeping Mommy, it is not terribly exciting. After a few moments of play, she ran back upstairs, unwittingly saving me from having to pretend to be asleep for more than a few minutes.

She's good to me like that.

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