At 8:15 last night, I read a chapter to my son (and daughter), I tucked him in, and laid down with her to try to get her to sleep before me. However, with the darkness my new room offers, I ended up succumbing to the power of my drooping eyelids by 8:30. Normally, I fight sleep, I love the hours between 11 pm and 2 am. It is a time that allows for little distraction and much alone time. My inner introvert shouts with joy at the thought of this time. It is my alone time with God when His voice is at its loudest. Last night, I missed it.
This doesn't matter, God finds a way and I trust him. He gently nudged me awake at 2 am. I was awake enough to get up, turn on my lamp, and talk with him. I pour my heart out to him like I seem to do more often these days. In the midst of this he spoke words of comfort. Minute by minute I was given peace. He gave me songs through pandora that I needed to hear, affirming what he was already trying to tell me. He created me, he knows I tend toward skepticism, He knows He needs to make his voice so obvious to me. I praise him for knowing me so well, and for giving me what I need. Sweet moments with my Father.
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