Good Night

3 am.

Still awake, waiting to see if our 2nd oldest throws up again.

But he hasn’t.  He’s just sleeping.

(Of course, every time he smacks his lips I nearly break my neck ditching the laptop, fumbling out of my chair, and grabbing “The Bowl” for him just in case.)

But he’s just sleeping.

And I thank God for His goodness and mercy to temper his version of the stomach bug so that he sleeps through it.  (His older brother had it far worse and longer.)

And then I mentally walk through the rest of the house where all my important people are sleeping soundly.  One on the couch in here with me.  Two in “the boys’ room”.  One baby-one in bed next to the wife-one.  And one in a toddler bed at the foot of them.

All asleep.  All well.  All still breathing.  Hearts beating.  (All quiet…equally as miraculous, I assure you. 🙂 )

And though we’ve had restless nights lately, for the most part this happens every night.  Hours of life sustained, and completely without my help or supervision.  As a matter of fact, I am unconscious for the better part of it.

But it’s a beautiful thing to see my Father quietly standing guard, keeping their bodies working, allowing them to rest for hours in the dark.

And though I may have to fly to my boy’s side with “The Bowl” any minute, tonight I got a peaceful glimpse into what my good Father does while I sleep.


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