Counting Sheep

“If you can’t sleep, don't count sheep, talk to the Shepherd.” I have heard this quote many times. However, as I rock my baby girl in the wee hours of the morning, it seems to resonate a little differently. She squirms in my arms and I pray for patience (and maybe just a little extra energy) as I begin to try to condense my latest touches from God into an outline for this blog.

It seems that the devil always strikes extra hard in the weeks following revivals. He preys on our most vulnerable places and doesn't give up easily.

This year my biggest struggles have been around the smallest things and I honestly find it quite ironic. That pair of shoes I feel like I should get rid of holds no value to me, but ol’ Satan sure has given me the go-around about them. “You felt fine about them when you got them!” “You have gotten compliments on them! Apparently that person thinks that they are okay!”

Honestly, I don’t even like to wear those shoes now that I have a baby. They seem to get uncomfortable faster than they used to. I felt a sweet calm after I decided not to ever wear them again, and I thank God that He was faithful in helping me through this seemingly pointless battle.

As I contemplated these things, I was reminded of Captain Naaman. Many times in the past as I have read that Bible story I have marveled at how he balked when it came to washing in the Jordan River. It was such a small thing, yet I’m sure Satan made it into a mountain for him. I have never resonated with him so much in my life. It comforted me to know that such battles have been fought for so many years.

Last night I was telling Robert how ridiculous I felt for battling some of these small things in my life. He gave me another tidbit to think about. “Don’t you think that God uses things like this to teach us obedience?” As soon as he said it, it made so much sense to me. Obedience has never been my strong suit. If that is the lesson He is wanting me to learn, I hope I learn it well.

A song comes to my lips that fits exactly how I feel. "Jesus, Tender Shepherd, how I need your love… Guide me on this pathway to my home above." Baby Girl's breathing betrays the fact that she is finally asleep again.

In my heart, I continue singing as I cautiously lay her down. She looks so peaceful. I tiptoe back to bed, thankful that my Shepherd sent me inspiration instead of leaving me to count sheep in the darkness.