Free Advice

A piece of advice…

Don’t pray for inspiration and a good night’s sleep in the same invocation. Sleep and inspiration are mutually exclusive.

After a challenging week in which my daily routine was cast asunder, I faced a work deadline, but the mental well was dry. And that irritated me like a mosquito bite. I could not let my empty mind rest. I picked, rubbed, and scratched trying to make a good idea come. I fretted about it and chastised myself. Growing desperate, I tried to stuff weak ideas into my head, but they were withered vines when I implanted them. I don’t know why I thought they would bloom.

At last, I talked myself into going to bed, and I comforted myself with prayer. Snuggling under the cool sheets, I whispered my usual prayers, adding a plea for inspiration and a request for a good night of sleep.

With the lights out and the soft hum of the fan as a lullaby, I closed my eyes.

BOOM.

Inspiration. A drop shipment. Was there a drone hovering over my bed?

I tried to tell myself it could wait until morning. I told myself that I would remember, but that was Satan battling it out with the Lord.

I have come to terms with my changing, aging memory. I might be on my way to work and stop in the bathroom. I remember to flush, but can’t remember what I was going to do next. I knew I would not remember this great idea, this prayed-for gift, and that I would be beating myself up in the morning both for losing the idea and for more evidence of my mental decline. And I did not want to anger the Lord with ingratitude. So, I got up and turned on the computer. I told myself that I would just get down a couple of ideas and work with them in the morning.

I opened a Word document and made some notes. Back to bed.

Seconds later, back to the computer. A few more notes. Back to bed. After several rounds of this, I accepted it was no use — the flood gates were open. I was up. And typing, typing, typing…

Within a few hours, I got enough down to call it a night — except it was morning.

After a few hours of shut-eye, I got out of bed and became absorbed in my daily duties eyeing the computer each time I passed. With three hours of sleep, I was tired and grouchy. Blame had to fall somewhere. Darn computer! The device continued to taunt me until my other tasks were completed. I grudgingly returned to my desk. At first my attitude interfered with the flow, but I typed on. Soon the words were coming and the paragraphs were re-arranging themselves. When the piece was complete, I felt satisfied but very tired.

Settling into bed later that night, I took no chances. I did not pray for inspiration or sleep. Instead, I prayed for my enemies — that they might be inspired and sleeping well.