I sit, long after I should. Everything is set aright, lamps off, doors locked, and I can feel the morning pressing in, even though it’s still across the world. It is creeping up, as it is past nine. The alarm will go off at 4….just 7 little hours away.
Still, something keeps me up. Maybe its the way the party lights shimmer against the window, their color the only thing alive here in the quiet night. They seem to whisper a promise of parties come and parties gone and parties yet to be. Pinterest calls me but I tagged teamed that already, and Facebook as well. The cats are even settled in their nightly places, their eyes know things that daylight doesn’t quite understand.
Times like these make me savor the last shreds of what’s left of the day. I contemplate what it means to be here now, alive, breathing listening for every night noise. It’s an amazing thing to know God’s up there seeing everything at once. Seeing the orphan in Haiti, the tears of a mother in Africa who can’t feed her child, the praying minister deep in the silent halls of a church in China, and the over-indulged and the overworked and starving here too.
I fight sleep and I don’t know why. I guess because I am trying to hear the world like God does. I hear….yes, but only when it’s quiet.