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S. A. J. Lyttek, a multiple award-winning writer, always loved writing, but didn’t arrive at the profession in the typical manner. After college and graduate school, she plunged into government consulting. In this environment, she discovered a knack for writing tests, interviews and other measurements. That soon became the focus of her career—reigniting her love for the written word. Thus captivated, she spent evenings freelancing “fun” writing including short stories, poems, articles and cards. When her eldest was a toddler, she quit full-time work to stay home and write. Eager to spend more time with her children, homeschooling intrigued her. From preschool through high school, she homeschooled both sons while continuing to freelance. An integral part of the homeschooling community, she has developed and taught writing classes to a generation of homeschoolers. Married to her childhood sweetheart, Gary, Mrs. Lyttek loves to share her commitment to homeschoolers and her fascination with the written word.
My title is an old phrase. I don’t hear many people use it, but sometimes, to me, it seems the only appropriate way to express extreme exhaustion.
My sisters and I have talked a lot over the recent years about not sleeping well. But Deb, who’s been averaging four hours a night, is the most sleep-deprived out of the three of us. I think that plays a lot into the emotional and psychological pain she’s had lately. She is back in the hospital this week. Please pray for her.
Personally, last night was yet another night of not sleeping enough. I read two chapters (at least not a whole book!) to encourage myself to nod off again. It was also a three melatonin, ½ a Benadryl, and four-bathroom trip night. Better than some nights, but still not enough.
Perhaps that all plays into not wanting to write this week’s post. I want to just do something mindless and pointless.
I’ve read a lot about how to get good sleep. But some nights, good doesn’t even play into the equation. I will take any sleep I can get.
Our sleep issues will often make me think of Chris. He was a prisoner that I wrote to for many years. In his letters, he was a gentle spirit. I ached for what he had done to himself to get into prison in the first place. But the drugs didn’t just cause him to do things to put him into prison. They permanently messed with him mind and disrupted his sleep.
You see, he had taken things that all but kept him from sleeping. And he took them for years. He told me that he only slept about one night a week, maximum, while he was using.
The wiring in his brain was so fried that he still couldn’t sleep well. And when he did sleep, the nightmares and hallucinations sometimes caused him to act out violently and hurt others. Yes, while sound asleep. He knew that though he’d been clean from the drugs longer than he’d been on them that they would still kill him.
I think that was his biggest regret. Not that he was in prison, even though that wasn’t a good thing. No. The thing he regretted most was that he couldn’t undo what he had done to his mind. He wanted to draw and take classes to become an artist. He would sometimes sketch pictures and enclose them with the letters. He had incredible talent.
But he lived bone tired during the time in jail. And that was how he died too.
Too many of us, even those of us who try to live clean lives, spend our days bone tired. We have forgotten how to shut off and rest.
God calls sleep a blessing. He says he gives it to his anointed and that he will keep us in perfect peace. I think of Jesus sleeping, no worries, in the storm-tossed boat. If he can do that and trust in his father, surely he will help us do the same.
I will keep trying to trust God when my head hits the pillow. And avoiding things (like blue screens) when it’s getting late. But until that rest comes on a regular basis, I will pray Psalm 4:8. “I will both lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, Lord, make me live in safety.”
Photo by Erik Erik and downloaded from Pixabay.