Posted by: pendrops | August 7, 2006


Why doesn’t the woman across from me just let herself sleep? She sat down with her horticulture magazine 15 minutes ago, but now her white Adidas hat keeps dipping and bobbing to the side. Her tired, wrinkled eyes are so heavy she can’t keep them open. She keeps blinking though, and turning the pages of her magazine. She holds her head up; but it drops again.

I wonder if the soft clicking of my keyboard is like a lullaby to her. I’ll keep typing so she can sleep. I wish she would. It’s painful to watch her forcing herself awake. This woman needs a nap, but she resists what her body says. Close your eyes. Rest.

We’ve been conditioned to fight our bodies quite a lot in recent years. Synthetic methods have replaced our natural rhythms since there’s a pill for everything. And the Internet – open 24 hours – gives us everything we want precisely when we want it. I guess we’re just afraid that if we slow down and, God forbid, take a 20-minute catnap, the world will pass us by. We’ll miss out. Or worse, we won’t be needed anymore. Besides, if I take this pill, I can sleep three hours and feel like I slept 10!

I heard once that Donald Trump only sleeps 3-4 hours each night. Of course he does. How else could someone that important be troubled with sleep? I’ve also heard that sleep is one of the ways humans acknowledge their humanness. When we sleep, we inadvertently admit that we are not God. We recognize that we require rest. We accept that our bodies cannot function without this dormant state that brings us back to life.

But we don’t like admitting that we need sleep…or anything. And we sure don’t like the reminder that we are not God. That takes us back to Eve and the tree. So, we become like this woman across from me; zombies holding our eyelids open with the notion that we are very important, very capable, and not one bit tired.



  1. How about that…I guess Donald Trump and I do have something in common!

  2. Yeah, I need to hear that about once a week! For me, it is a lack of trust in God’s provision that keeps me from proper rest. Once anxiety kicks up my blood pressure, I can think of a hundred different ways to cope–none of them include trust and rest.

  3. but what about those who sleep their life away?

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