It’s 11:14pm and I can’t sleep.
We went to bed early – big day, big weekend in fact. So tired, we said. And I lay in the dark, shifting arms and legs every-which way, to side, to back, to front, to side – nothing comfortable.
Then, flat on my back, I entertained the ideas piling in my head like a traffic jam, allowed the list of to-dos their fussing space, scrutinising the finer details of prescriptions to fill, work meetings to attend and school lunches to make.
This happens often enough.
Sometimes it’s God wanting some time when the house is quiet; He who sustains my body wanting to sustain my soul.
But I wondered too if it was more to do with the fact that a white-tail spider dropped from my pyjamas when I grabbed them from under my pillow tonight. Yes, I squealed. Like a girl. And waited for hubby to aid its exit before sweeping down the entire bed and shaking those pjs like they’d committed a serious felony.
You know the crawling sensation after this kind of incident, don’t you? Like a reverse placebo effect. There’s absolutely nothing crawling across your face, and you know it, but your skin prickles in the most convincing way.
Yet, a word plopped into the sleeplessness as a droplet into water, rippling out and out.
I’d say it’s a case for onomatopoeia. It’s sound ends abruptly, like it has reached a brink, and in ending with that particular consonant, demands a pause, a slight lingering time, before the sentence or thought can resume its flow.
I couldn’t help but note how close it is to cup. Take out that ‘s’ and cusp, a word at the brink of falling into… becomes a word that can be filled up.
Cusp and cup – they explain much.
This delicious unnamed ground that I refuse to call in-between or limbo or anything else that suggests it is a no-man’s land. I am learning its significance and relishing the rest, the way my God, “leads me beside quiet waters” and how he, “restores my soul” (Psalm 23).
I am on the CUSP and I am a CUP – always filling with the grace that God pours out to overflowing. No time is wasted. God uses every scrap of time when we commit it to him. He created us just as he created time itself and while we may become weary with time, God uses time to ‘unweary’ us.
“There is a time for everything,” I have just read in Ecclesiastes 3, “and a season for every activity under the heavens:”
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
Time for sleep.
* The photo has no significance to the words – just wanted to share these gorgeous sunflowers with you. They’re from my mum’s garden!