Sunday, August 17, 2014

A Whisper in the Night


                                                
                                                 

  During the last two nights  I have woken  up to find myself whispering,                                                                         “Jesus, help me.”

 I must have woke up 5 times last night doing that. Each time my lids flew open; I noticed my heart was in my stomach as if I had just ridden a roller coaster. What on earth was I dreaming?? Thankfully, even though I woke anxious, after a quiet prayer, I was able to fall back to sleep each time. 
My heart has been heavy for my brothers and sisters in Iraq who are facing great terror. And I have to believe my waking is a result of that, so I prayed for them.

    (Or perhaps my family's viewing of  "Shark Week" was a bit too much.)


                  
  This morning with a good strong cup of coffee (Thank you Folgers) a memory from long ago came to mind. 

When one of our sons was a toddler he used to experience “night terrors” in his sleep. Sometimes he would have several in one night. 

 It was the scariest thing for a young mama to witness, and according to the pediatrician it was something he would outgrow (which thankfully he did.)

     Deep in the middle of the night, I would find him crying out in his sleep. As I ran to him I found him thrashing and clawing and climbing out of his crib. One night he even ran for the back door trying to escape whatever terror he was experiencing. Each time I would scoop him up in my arms and try to soothe him, however, the doctor told me the worst thing I could do was to wake him. If I did it could frighten him even more (which honestly  I didn't think possible.) The whole time he screamed, “I want my Mama, I want my Mama!”   While I held him tight, his sweet little eyes would open and he would look straight at me, but still dreaming he could not see me.  Terror would send him into kicking and screaming fits as I held him in my arms; all the while wishing I could take away his fears and wondering what on earth he was experiencing. I found that lightly rubbing his tummy, whispering a prayer over him and singing quietly would eventually calm him back into a peaceful slumber.  It broke my heart that he did not know that I was there holding him and comforting him even as his eyes looked up at me.

     I have to wonder when we are having our own times of terror, if our Lord becomes saddened when we too call out to him over and over again and do not recognize Him holding and comforting us.  And unlike that young mama so many years ago, He does see what we are experiencing. It is He who knows exactly how to calm our greatest fears when we whisper to him,

                                                                “ Jesus, help me .”

                                                                
(All images by Google)

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