Wild Night

It’s Saturday night, a few minutes past midnight, and I’m sitting in our dark living room wide-eyed and bushy tailed, unable to sleep. It sounds riveting, I know, but this restlessness is the kind that comes from a stomach bug that has been plaguing our family of 6, one-by-one, for the last 10 days. Tonight, my husband is the victim. As he attempts to find solace in the comfort of bed (or the bathroom), I find myself here, on the couch, listening to the gentle hum of one of the many air purifiers we have working overtime right now.

The kids are all fast asleep. A feat that usually is done within an hour took entirely too long tonight as I laid them each to sleep without daddy’s help. Easton, our 7 going on 17 year old, wanted to tell his sister everything that was on his mind or had happened in the last 5 days that he hadn’t shared yet. Everly, our 4 year old wild girl is suffering from another growth spurt that brings on awful cramping in her legs at bedtime if she’s run or played too hard throughout the day. I spent a solid 30 minutes massaging her calves with magnesium lotion long after my own bedtime tonight. Allison, our sweet and spicy 2 year old who typically falls asleep in daddy’s arms or beside us in our bed, took extra long falling asleep tonight, with mommy squished beside her on her own big girl bed. She somehow managed to hold out though, and even after I thought she was asleep, came toddling back out to the hallway with her sweet little whisper of “mama..?” I held her long enough on the couch that we both started sweating as she began to snore. Finally, I laid her to sleep in her own bed. Then there’s Hope. Hope is our youngest daughter, seven months younger than Allison. We brought her home from the hospital and became her foster family when she was 8 weeks old, and now, at a whopping 20 months old, we are in the final stages of adopting her. Hope is our complex baby in every way– she is disabled and has a trach and g-tube– but praise Jesus, that girl loves to go to sleep peacefully at bedtime. Of course, our youngest child with the most complicated bedtime routine would be the first one to smile goodnight, roll over, and fall asleep when she’s laid in her crib. Bless her.

After another round of “mommy, can you rub my legs?”and checking in on my husband in our room, I made my way back out to the couch and laid here to pray.

“Lord, please cleanse our home from this sickness. Please restore health to all of us and stop this virus in its track. Please put a hedge of protection around Hope that she would not catch it. She’s the only one who hasn’t suffered through it, and I pray she will not have to. Please spare her. Let this sickness end here tonight, and please let it leave our home. Amen.”

Thunder rolls overhead, and I add onto my prayer: “Lord, please don’t let us lose power because you know how desperately we need that well-pump to work as Matthew rides out this sickness. Lord, please keep the toilets flushing in Jesus’ name.”

12:22 am, and here I am, typing this in the dark when I should be sleeping. These babies will be up with the sunrise, and I’ll be back on duty before I know it. But still, here I sit. It’s been a while since I sat down to write, and I keep feeling this nudge from the Lord that I’ve got more to share. So here I am. I’ll be back after some sleep and a little respite from this dreaded stomach bug that I keep rebuking in Jesus’ name.