Unable to sleep

The more I come to know the Lord, the more deeply I feel His words living inside me. The things He has said, the truth of His presence, and the way He moves through my life have touched me in a way I cannot fully explain. It is as though He is gently steering me through everything I have faced, even the hardest and most painful moments. In sickness, in the hospital, and in the quiet hours when I felt the most alone, He has remained near.

There have been times when sleep would not come. I would lie there exhausted, longing for rest, yet unable to fully let go. My body would sweat, my mind would stay alert, and it felt as though I was being held just beyond sleep — just beyond the place where I could finally drift away. It was as if I was waiting for something, or perhaps someone, though I could not say what. It is a feeling far too deep for words, something I can only carry in my spirit.

When the world is silent and the night has settled over everything, I remain awake. My eyes may be closed, but my mind hears everything. Every small noise, every faint scrape, the first drop of rain before it gathers, the soft whisper of the wind, even the gentle snoring of my animals — nothing escapes me. And in that stillness, I pray. I ask the Lord why I cannot sleep, why I remain so alert, why my heart and mind seem unable to rest. I do not understand it, and I have questioned it many times.

Still, even through all of this, I have not been overcome. Somehow, I keep getting through each day, and I know it is because of the Lord. The strength is not my own. It comes from Him.

What moves me most is how clearly I seem to remember everything — every part of my life, every pain, every moment, every detail. Sometimes memories rise up so vividly, like the image of the doctor with silver tongs and the injury to my right eye when I was delivered. Even those things I have never fully known how to speak about seem to live within me. There are moments when I feel as though I am standing at the edge of something too large to understand, something sacred and overwhelming.

At times I wonder if I am losing my mind, but deep down I know I am not. I stay grounded. I hold myself together. And even though I cannot explain what is happening, I know it is not empty or meaningless. It feels holy. It feels personal. It feels like I am being held, seen, and loved in a way that reaches far beyond words.

That is the best I can say: I feel deeply loved. And that feeling is so overwhelming that I can only bow before it in silence and gratitude.