Dark

My mind is restless, wakeful at a dark and lonely hour. 

Its cars run over a track well-worn, used many times before, until it runs it raw and my thoughts bleed. 

I cannot stop the thinking, the emotions chasing after each other in my head, round and round and round. 

Breathing hard, I steady myself. I am afraid of insomnia. I always have been. When I cannot sleep, I panic. I get scared, and I cry. 

Sometimes, instead of facing this, instead of looking into the darkness, I cry out for help. The next morning, it does not pay off well. 

The bags under my eyes are full of the baggage of dreams never dreamt, and they are dark and bruised with rubbing them when I tried to make myself tired. 

Sleep is a blessing that sometimes escapes me, and I know not why. I'm thoroughly and honestly exhausted, and yet... 

Here I am, awake. No one to run to, no one to call... No one but You, Abba. 

Help me, be with me, stay with me, rock me back to sleep. Lord, my future terrifies me, the darkness terrifies me, and I am in a panic, a tiny ship on a never ending sea of consciousness. The storms of life seem conquerable in the light, but the darkness is overwhelming. 

Jesus, it always has been, if I am alone. I know I am never alone, but I also know that your presence in my mind is optional, and the choice is mine. I may kick you out, for you are a perfect gentleman and will not stay where you are unwanted. 

Sometimes though I wish you'd be louder. Your comfort is so quiet that I have to choose over and over again to hear it over the drumming of my heart and the cymbals of my thoughts. 

I am still afraid of the dark

But not when you are here. 

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray (dear abba) my soul to keep. 

If I should die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take.