One night last week I heard a noise around 1 am. It was loud enough to wake me up from a sound sleep. But once I was awake, I didn’t hear it again.
I didn’t think it was a child. It wasn’t Even Steven having a stroke…
And then I figured it was probably God waking me up to let me know that someone was about to break into our house. Because – you know – God’s cool like that.
So I immediately went on high-alert, ready to implement my God Woke Me Up to Warn Me That Someone Is Breaking Into Our House Plan.
It’s a simple plan, really – it goes like this:
- God wakes me up.Because we’re cool like that.
- Fumbling at the gate. We have a gate at the top of our stairs that is locked when we go to bed. When I hear the intruder fumbling at the gate, that’s my cue to take action. And of course he’ll fumble with the gate – those suckers are hard to open especially in the dark.
- I wake up Even Steven.This used to be first on my list, but after the first few times of waking him up, it got a little old. Now he’s bumped down to number 3.
- Call 9-1-1. I’ll grab the phone next to my bed and dial 9-1-1. And of course they’ll answer immediately and arrive within minutes.
- Throw a left-jab or a dresser. Somehow, after I wake up Even Steven and call 9-1-1, I’ll develop super-human strength and run to the gate. I’ll either throw a left-jab at the dude and send him flying down the stairs, or I’ll take the dresser from Miles’s room and throw it down the stairs on top of him. It’s a decision I’ll have to make when I’m in the moment.
- Protect the children. While he’s flying down the stairs, I’ll round up the kids and protect them somehow.
Now – clearly my plan isn’t all that great. And I’m not exactly sure why I’m waking up Even Steven if I’m not relying on him to at least throw a dresser for me or something – but that’s just how my mind works in the middle of the night.
So – anyway – last week, God wakes me up, and I don’t hear fumbling at the gate yet, but I reach for the phone in preparation. Except that it isn’t there. There is NO PHONE next to my bed!
That’s just not safe. Not safe at all. I might as well ride a bike without a helmet or hang upside down on the monkey bars or eat unwashed spinach. NO PHONE???
My cell phone was charging on the kitchen counter. Even Steven’s cell phone was in his work bag. Our home phone was charging in the kitchen.
And our other home phone (the one that’s supposed to stay in our room) somehow ended up in the middle of the street, where I ran over it twice with the minivan earlier that day.
Without the phone, my entire plan went down the drain.
So, instead, I checked on all of the kids. They were sleeping soundly.
I checked the gate – it was locked – and there was no one at the top fumbling to get to us.
And then I actually went downstairs and looked around. Everything looked the way it should look in the middle of the night – and to be honest with you – my house looks pretty clean in the middle of the night.
And then I grabbed my phone and headed back upstairs.
Except I couldn’t sleep.
So I came back downstairs and watched TV and answered emails until 4 am.
The moral of this story? There are several, in case you didn’t catch them.:
Maybe it’s best not to have a plan. (It worked for me during labor, might suit me now.)
Don’t live on the edge – sleep with a phone next to your bed.
Just because you wake up in the middle of the night for no reason doesn’t necessarily mean that God is trying to send you a message.
It might just mean that the tea you drank right before bed wasn’t decaf.