The sound of cat paws and claws tap along the floor of the long hallway outside our bedroom. Tap tap tap. 3:21am. Peeta, our old cat (nearly 11 years old and missing teeth, including a canine that gives him a permanent stink face), jumps into our bed. He nudges my hand, desperate for attention. Even in the middle of the night he can’t get enough. Our other cat follows his lead, looking for attention of her own. When pets seem unlikely they both make themselves cozy in the crooks of our bodies, Peeta by my side and Lola directly on David or on the pillow above my head.
Their little disruption keeps me awake for a while longer, long enough to cycle through my shortcomings, my dreams for the future, my fears of who I am and aren’t (but maybe should?) be becoming, my imperfections and flaws, and a little bit of feeling like I’ll never be good enough. I'm just a joy to be around in the dark of night.
These thoughts take hold out of darkness and seep into my being. I question basic principles of me: Why didn’t I do that thing I said I would do and actually want to do but keep making excuses for because I don’t have time/can’t make it a priority and wow, I am such a mess and can’t get anything right? Am I becoming too much like the woman I longed to never become, never able to turn the other cheek, whose leading emotion is always anger, unable to take criticism and unable to take accountability, critical and cynical about the world and all of its inhabitants, unaware of the goodness of God? Will I ever accomplish my dreams and grow into the truest version of me?
Gosh, I’m exhausted. Is it just my enneagram one inner voice/critic/bully that speaks these harsh words or does everyone have a “devil-on-the-shoulder” voice that never goes away and makes them question their entire existence?
To be fair, these questions don’t just appear in the middle of the night. They keep me awake all throughout the day as I seek to be better, do better, and live better. They hold my attention (and my worries) longer than they should. They sometimes get the best parts of me. They deplete me and never fill me back up. But I think these things that keep me up at night hold some merit. They remind me of who I long to be, the dreams God has given me, and the fear I have about being less than what God is calling me to be.
But in the darkness, everything holds tighter, strangling my breath and stifling my thoughts until everything goes black. They hold me captive, as the darkness often does. I fall asleep, clinging onto questions that haunt me, answers I may never find.
Then comes the first light, birds outside my window welcoming the morning, cat nudges once again on my hands. Peeta’s gentle tap tap tap, this time patting me gently, urging me to wake up and grasp the morning afresh. I wake, vaguely aware of last night’s events, rubbing the tiredness out of my eyes. I perform the usual routine of putting in my contacts, taking out my retainers, and sleepwalking to the kitchen for my morning coffee. With a much-need coffee in hand, I sit on the couch, feeling more awake and at rest than I did a few hours ago.
Perhaps the purpose of life is not about what I can accomplish or how much I can do or be or whatever the masses think is success. Maybe it’s not in the praise from others to make me feel better when I’m always feeling like I’m falling short.
It’s in the promise of a new day, the sunlight streaming through, bringing new hope, new life, and another opportunity to do better. It’s in becoming more of who God made me to be, trusting that I will never be the person I fear I will be if I simply follow him. It’s not in the things that keep me up at night but in the things that give me life and motivation to keep going during the light of day, for goodness grows in light, in life.
When I go to bed tonight I will remember that my middle-of-the-night thoughts have merit, but they do not—no, will not—tell me who I am and who I can be. I will live in the day and in the light—the day the Lord has made.
Thank you for reading this essay. I wrote this one at 6:30am after being awoken at 5:30 and having a burst of writing inspiration while laying in bed. Perhaps I should write more early in the morning? These essays are a way to write a bit more freely than I do on my blog, and it gives me joy to practice my craft in this way. I do not take it lightly that you would allow me into your inbox and that you read my words. Thank you <3