God bless you, I love you, Goodnight.

I remember the first time Caleb told me he had a bad dream.  My mind raced, my stomach sank, my heart broke. I wondered if it was that abominable snowman from Rudolph, which we let him watch countless times during the holidays. I wondered if it was something we inadvertently let him see or hear. I wondered if it was something he saw when he wasn’t with us. Guilt. Worry. Guilt. Worry. The tension I feel almost always between “you can’t always be in control” and “you are responsible for it all.”

I can remember having bad dreams, or even just being scared at night, when I was little. I remember one of my very first prayers - I was young enough to only know simple words, but just old enough to know who God was and what He could do. It went:

Dear God,

Thank you for this day. Please let us have a nice sleep and no dreams.

In Jesus’ Name I pray,

Amen

I would utter that prayer silently every night my head hit the pillow. I would repeat it in my head when a gust of wind or roar of thunder would jolt me into wakefulness. I would say it when a seemingly innocent dream sequence would take a turn for the worst and I’d wake up startled, hoping it wasn’t real. And every single time, I was always comforted, I always felt safe, I always knew my request was being heard – and more importantly –I knew that God cared and would do something about it.

The other night, Caleb stumbled into our room, half asleep, whimpering a little. We contemplated putting him back to bed, but instead let him crawl into bed with us. We recently got a king sized bed, meaning MORE ROOM and less of a chance that Caleb, in his crazy middle of the night ways, would be left sleeping on our faces.  We left a hole between Luke and I for Caleb to nestle into, yet I instinctively pulled him close to me and held him tight. He must’ve fallen asleep the moment I held him because he laid there completely peaceful and still, breathing steadily into my neck. As I stroked his hair and kissed his forehead, still groggy myself, I found myself praying in my head over and over and over again,

Dear Lord,

Please let him have a nice sleep and no dreams. Please let him have a nice sleep and no dreams. Please let him have a nice sleep and no dreams …

There is so much I don’t have control over and so much I am responsible for. That tension can make me worry like crazy. But in that tension is the truth of what I’ve known since I was old enough to know anything.

It’s the truth of who He is and what He can do.

I can rest in that. I pray Caleb can and will, too.