Before I Sleep

May 9, 2017 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 5 Comments

“Don’t worry, Mr. Phillips. You’ll be asleep through the whole process.”

I think she meant it to be reassuring. No, I’m sure she did.

I’m not all that reassured.

I like being awake. I’ve spent most of my life being awake. I remember things that have happened when I’m awake better than otherwise.

I don’t sleep much—a habit the man who’s doing the procedure in a day or two says I need to break. Come to think of it, that may be what he’s trying to help me with by having me sleep while he works. He’s going to give me a jump-start on breaking the habit of not sleeping.

It’s a habit I’ve cultivated over a lifetime, one I don’t wish to have meddled with.

A few years ago, my young son-in-law sat at the dinner table one day and voiced his complaint. The month-old baby in my daughter’s arms was the object of the young father’s concern.

“He just won’t go to sleep. It’s like he’s afraid he’ll miss something while he’s out.”

All of us gathered at the table chuckled sympathetically, but the words rattled around in my head and hit a little closer to home than he intended.

I don’t want to miss anything!

I don’t.

Oh—in a day or two, I’ll lie down and let them put the IV into my arm and I’ll sleep. I really don’t think I need to be awake while that nice man runs a probe through my arteries. I actually believe that may be one of the few things I’d like to miss.

But the rest of it? The conversations, the mealtimes, the concerts, the bike rides, the hugs, the tears, the singing, the soccer games, the shopping trips, the weddings, the funerals, and all the other events that make up a lifetime?

Those I don’t want to sleep through.

It’s time to be awake.

I remember sitting in the pew as a boy and singing at the top of my lungs (I always did) as the song leader swung his arm in that familiar 4 beat pattern.

Work, for the night is coming,
When man’s work is o’er.

It’s a great hymn, reminding us that we need to be up and doing while we have time. The figurative night is the end of our life.

But, I have a problem.

I don’t know about you, but it seems to me it’s pretty dark in the world now. The shades of night are all about us.

Is it time to sleep yet?

Shades of night are all about us. Is it time to sleep yet? Share on X

In what we once called the Dark Ages, people gathered together in walled cities for protection against each other, closing the gates to any who were outside. Inside lay safety.

Religious factions disparaged each other from the safety of their fortresses. Petty kings and rulers did the same from theirs.

Outside, chaos ruled. Fear was the law of the land. Those with power took whatever they wanted. The common man survived, but only just.

Somehow today, it seems dark to me again. Nighttime, one might say.

Still, it’s not time for sleep yet. Now is the time to be up and doing.

In the dark.

We’re not home yet.

It’s time to shake off the sleep. Time to drink another cup of coffee or splash cold water on the face.

Whatever it takes.

Perhaps, Mr. Frost said it better than I can. If it comes to that, I’m sure he did.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. *

I’m still awake.

I want to keep my promises.

You?

This is all the more urgent, for you know how late it is; time is running out. Wake up, for our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is almost gone; the day of salvation will soon be here. So remove your dark deeds like dirty clothes, and put on the shining armor of right living.
(Romans 13:11-12 ~ NLT)

*(from Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening ~ Robert Frost)

It’s Still Turning

September 1, 2016 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 4 Comments

You know, Paul, the whole world doesn’t stop turning just because you’ve gone to sleep.

I never really thought it did. It is an intriguing concept, though.

I can’t help but think of the Washington Irving character, Rip Van Winkle, who slept through the American Revolutionary War and a host of other events—deaths, births, and weddings to name a few—which changed the course of history. Old Rip fell asleep under a tree in the mountains one afternoon and woke up twenty years later, expecting things to be the same as when he lay down for his nap.

The world didn’t stop turning while he slept.

My young friend, who is a card dealer in a nearby casino, said the words you read up above to me the other day. I wanted to know what a typical night is like in the gambling world, never having been in the place myself. I don’t stay away because I’m worried gambling is on the list of activities banned by my faith; it’s just that I don’t have any money I want to throw in the trash.

When I use the words typical night, I’m not talking about an evening, nor even the late night hours up to midnight or so. My friend works the tables until seven or eight in the morning. He works the night shift.

It turns out there are folks who gamble at any hour, some because they want to, others because they have a compulsion. While we sleep, they lose money—or, sometimes, win money. Mostly, they lose it.

While we sleep, they pray. Yes, that’s what I said. They pray.

I would suppose more praying goes on in that huge casino than in most of the churches in my little town on any given day. It’s not the kind of prayer we normally voice, but in some ways, it’s not far off.

Desperate people, in need of help, beg the only One they know never sleeps.

He never sleeps. (Psalm 121:3,4)

Do you remember the first time you learned the concept that things happened while you slept?

Your parents took advantage of it on Christmas Eve. While you slept and dreamed of that Easy-Bake Oven, or that V-rroom Motor for your bicycle, they turned the living room from a drab place for boring adults to sit and talk into a wonderland of toys and wrapping paper. One instant, you were laying your head down on your pillow and the next, astounding things had happened!

I also remember the long automobile trips to Grandma’s house—ordeals that stretched out from here to eternity, it seemed. The ubiquitous query—are we there yet? —filled the air until, one by one, we kids nodded off.

Miracle of miracles! When the sudden halt of the car’s motion brought us back to consciousness, we were at our destination, being bundled out of the car and into Grandma’s arms and from there, into her kitchen to taste her amazing peanut butter cookies.

While we slept, the endless miles were erased, the boring hours passed, as if by magic.

The world doesn’t stop turning just because you’ve gone to sleep.

The young man said the words to me in jest, but they keep coming back to taunt me.

I’m not a kid anymore.

Grown-ups had to prepare the living room for Christmas morning—long, busy hours of labor, while children slept peacefully in their beds, dreaming of presents.

Dad had to drive through the night, with endless curves in the road and hours of drinking black coffee to stay awake long enough to complete the trip, while the brats slept in the back seat, heads toppled over onto each other’s shoulders like so many rag dolls.

I’m not a kid anymore. (1 Corinthians 13:11)

Most of us aren’t.

Why are we still sleeping through the important stuff?

Folks pray for someone to help them in their addiction, and we sleep peacefully.

A mother cries for her still-born child and we sleep unaware.

A young man decides to take his life and we doze on.

The world doesn’t stop turning just because we’ve gone to sleep.

The red-headed lady who raised me had a saying (she always did): Make hay while the sun shines.

The sun is shining. Somewhere, it’s shining.

Make hay.

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The Teacher said to them, You think the harvest is months away, don’t you? Wake up and look around you! The fields are white and ready to harvest right now. (John 4:35)

The world keeps spinning.

Make hay.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
(from Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening ~ Robert Frost ~ 1874-1963)

But you, lazybones, how long will you sleep?
When will you wake up?
A little extra sleep, a little more slumber,
a little folding of the hands to rest…
(Proverbs 6:9,10 ~ NLT)

Eye Opening

June 2, 2015June 2, 2015 ~ Paul Phillips ~ Leave a comment

Brother 1: “What did the man say when the clock struck thirteen?”
Brother 2: “I don’t know. What did he say?”
Brother 1: “‘I’ve got to get up! It’s later than it’s ever been before!'”

I sat this evening in my easy chair. Ah, sweet peace!

Leaning the recliner back toward the wall, my eyes closed of their own accord, just like one of those dolls with the weighted eyelids. My busy day had gotten the best of me and a nap seemed appropriate. Okay–at that moment appropriate had nothing to do with it. I fell asleep without even thinking about the implications at all.

We have four striking clocks in the house, all of which are audible from that easy chair. I’ve never been able to synchronize them to strike at the same time.

The sound as they announce the hour, one after another and intermingled with each other, is enough to wake the dead.

Perhaps that’s a bad metaphor, but it’ll do for this situation.

If lying down was reminiscent of the action of those doll’s eyes, waking was that also. In reverse. As I jerked up from my reclining position, the clocks tolling the hour, my eyes flew open.

I had things to do! What was I doing, sleeping away the evening?

It’s late! I’ve got to get busy!

The clocks didn’t strike thirteen, although a stranger in the house might be excused for thinking it was more times than that. The cacophony when they all get in on the act is a little unsettling.

You know, the man with the defective clock was right.

It is later than it’s ever been.

If that seems a Captain Obvious type statement, I apologize. For some reason, I’m always the last one to become aware of the conspicuous facts.

You see, I’ve never been fifty-eight before, an age I’ll attain later this month. I’ve never been married for thirty-six years before. It’s never been 2015 before.

It’s later than it’s ever been.

Oh, I’ve heard the warnings. All about us, people are shouting that the sky is falling. They are scurrying about blaming others, buying guns, and storing up emergency rations to be sure they survive the disasters, both natural and man-made, which are coming.

I will admit to my ignorance.

I will also admit to my lack of interest.

Please don’t misunderstand. I don’t deny that there is change coming–perhaps soon. I just don’t believe that it makes one iota of difference in our mission. And what I see from many who believe the change is upon us is anger, and confusion, and selfishness.

But, the One we follow–those of us who claim to be Christians–the One we follow has given us our instructions long ago.

Love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that a man lay down his life for another.

And, just in case we misunderstood and thought that it was only those who believe as we do whom we are called to love, God reminded us that it was while we were still His enemies that His Son came for us. To die.

Not friends. Enemies.

The cacophony of the voices I hear raised in cursing–yes, cursing–at the world (and those raised in return) is not unlike the clanging of those clocks, reminding us that it is late.

Not too late, I hope. Later than it’s ever been, without doubt, but not too late.

Are you frightened? Upset by recent events? Disappointed with people and situations? Me, too. It gives us no excuse. None of us.

I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, or next week, or next year, for that matter. The government and the courts may turn on us. Our accustomed way of life may vanish from the face of the earth. It changes nothing.

Nothing.

We love. Perhaps enough to die, but we love.

Because He first loved us.

It’s later than it’s ever been.

My eyes are open now.

Yours?

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.
(1 John 3:16 ~ NIV)

Q: What time is it when the clock strikes thirteen?
A: Time to get a new clock!

He's Taken Leave

Random wanderings with Paul Phillips

awake

Before I Sleep

It’s Still Turning

Eye Opening