I am thinking God is not a big fan of sleep. I know God rested and all that. Once. But God does not seem to rest much anymore.In grad school, back in the mid-90s, I wrote the majority of my papers between the hours of "after supper" until "middle of the night." I used to be a bona fide night owl. Dark, quiet early morning hours welcomed me into the labyrinths of ancient Greek literature, the book of Hebrews, and the Middle Ages. It was during those same lonely hours in the Bible that God often spoke to people in order to send a message. God is an invader of dreams.My friend Edward wakes up at all hours of the night with deep inspirations to write things that go on to edify the kingdom of God in this temporary place, collections of words that challenge the religious establishment content to build yet another whitewashed tomb. He is one of those rare souls unafraid to question the status quo in order to call people to discipleship over churchianity, weeping at times like Jeremiah over a landscape laid to waste to the Walmartization of mega-churches cannibalizing the mom and pop congregations of Middle America. (With props to my friend Dan for that last phrase.) No way I am on par with that kind of in-touch-ness with God. But it sets a good example for the possibility that fitful sleep has something to do with the Spirit of the Lord. Exactly what, I do not know.There lies the problem. I do not know. And if you have read this journal before, O faithful bloggerland reader, you know that lack of knowledge is a particularly unsettling thing for your's truly. I like to think, occasionally even deeply.During this season of Lent, I am not sleeping well. Somewhere in the distant land between this past Sunday night and Monday morning, I woke up at 3:30 a.m. with a deep sense of urgency to pray for a young man I know who is about to embark on his college journey. I have only known him for a year, but he is a uniquely gifted person with all kinds of heart. So I did. I prayed. Dwelt in the presence of a God who does not seem to care whether I get seven consecutive hours.After about an hour of prayer and thought, I fell back asleep for a little while. My dreams were of angels who had upgraded from harps to electric guitars. These were not peaceful messengers. They had an agenda.The dreams were fitful, on par with sleeping on an airplane. You may close your eyes, even drift with the Sandman for a few moments. But if you have ever flown overseas, you know what it is to hear things somewhere between waking and sleeping.I am not sure whether I have ever had an ongoing experience like this with God before or not. Admittedly, it is uncomfortable. It messes with your routines, your notions of rest, presence, and urgency. I honestly want to know and do God's will. But the more I pray, and the more I keep silence before God, the more I hear brothers and sisters in conversations and writing expressing a deep need to be Christ to the world instead of merely doing church programs. The primary reason Christianity/churches south of the equator is/are growing is because they have not had time to settle into the routines of "the way we've always done it." (If you have not read Jenkins', The Next Christendom, it's an eye-opener. Abre los ojos.)One of the people who has become a daily friend of mine since I moved to Houston is named Antero. He is the building and groundskeeper at Bering. Antero speaks to me in broken English, and I speak to him in broken Spanish. Our children are of similar ages. We both love Futbol. (Soccer for Americans and Aussies.) And we both love to laugh.Not too long ago he walked into my office as he does every morning to collect the trash and have a few moments of conversation, mainly catching up on each other's families. He walked in."Como esta?"I will usually answer, "Bien." But on that morning, sometime soon after Ash Wednesday, I replied, "I don't know how to say, 'Deep in thought.'" That's when Antero taught me my new favorite phrase.Pensado profundamente.One cannot volunteer to be close to God without it causing a bit of a disturbance, which is why Susan B. Anthony said what she said. "I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do because I notice it always coincides with their own desires." That'll preach right there.My desires? Let's see. I could rattle off a list that includes material possessions, church demographics, and family security. But deep in thought on this Wednesday morning, it seems all God wants today is for us to be concerned with today. How can we be Christ today to those who cross our paths?That's all, folks.
