As I get older, sleep has a way of surprising me in the creative ways it manages to avoid me. A stiff back and restless legs are the most effective culprits at the moment.
When I was a kid, sleep was as sweet as my favorite dessert. Winter was the best sleeping time of all and I suspect that I might be part bear. Give me a stack of my grandmother's old quilts and let the hibernation begin.
This delightful pattern continued until the horror movie of the century came out. "The Exorcist" rolled into theaters in 1973, telling the story of a young girl's demonic possession and deliverance. I had no problem with the deliverance, but the possession part was a bit much.
Oddly, I've never seen the movie; I didn't have to. My brother saw it and came home spewing the gory details. What captivated my imagination was his description of a scene in which the girl levitates while in bed. Well, I was in bed when I heard the story, which suddenly made my mattress seem more like a rocket ship that would soon depart to places I didn't care to visit.
After braving my bed for five more harrowing minutes, I sought refuge in my father's bed. Though he didn't seem particularly interested in sharing his pillow, there was no negotiating the return to my bed. With a tight grip on his t-shirt, I finally drifted off to sleep .
The next few nights weren't much better because I kept replaying the movie in my head. I returned to my bed even though no one anchored my bed to the floor as I had requested. "The Exorcist" was one of the highest grossing films that year, but that's not my fault. It took my sleep but it never got any of my money.
Years later, I must have suffered a nasty case of amnesia because I was talked into watching "The Shining", starring the scariest guy around, Jack Nicholson. I knew Nicholson couldn't be trusted because he was a Lakers fan and everyone knows the Boston Celtics are God's chosen ones. "The Shining" had blood spewing like a fountain from numerous hapless victims who were lucky enough to die rather than having to watch this film.
Sleep again became a distant memory and I promised myself there would be no more horror films in my future other than cable news. Today, five minutes of politics and a dash of Dr. Fauci and the COVID Express are all it takes to fill my horror cup to the brim.
As I reflect on today's scary world and the fact that this is just a warm-up for what's coming (I've read Revelation), I remember the only thing that ever brought me comfort --- my father.
Today's trials and the approaching tribulation have an important, though unpleasant, purpose. When hope is hard to find, there's only one place to flee for safety. Although His arms have been open since the beginning, God knows what it takes to bring us home, and comfort and safety are not the tickets because they are often the things we worship.
Trouble and turmoil work like nothing else to cause us to seek God. I could have snuggled with my dad often, but I didn't. Send a dozen demons from one movie my way and I become inseparable from my father. This has always been what God has wanted for us, that we remain close to Him, no matter what.
Many have questioned why God wants a time of tribulation. He doesn't. He wants you and if it takes a tribulation to get your attention, then it's on. It's time to end our hibernation and awaken to the Son shining grace and mercy on us. Grab his t-shirt in the midst of all that frightens you and rest. Darkness may come for the night but joy comes in the morning.