Note: The graphics were generated using AI.

As I prayed through Psalm 3 today, I thought about Mercer Mayer’s children’s book, Just Go to Bed. The main character, Little Critter, does not want to go to bed. He has every excuse imaginable. There is always one more thing to do, one more adventure to have, one more reason why bedtime cannot happen yet. Sometimes I think I am Little Critter—not because I want to stay up and play, but because even when my body is ready for bed, my mind refuses to call it a night.

Psalm 3 was written during one of the most painful seasons of David’s life. He was fleeing from his own son Absalom. His enemies were multiplying. People were saying that even God would not rescue him. And right in the middle of all that turmoil, David says something almost startling:

“I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the LORD sustained me.” (Psalm 3:5)

David went to bed even though the problems weren’t solved; Absalom was still Absalom, and the  enemies were still there. Tomorrow was still uncertain, but David slept anyway.

I love that because sometimes my greatest battles begin after my head hits the pillow. During the day, I can keep busy, but at 2:00 a.m., I become aware of my enemies outside my bedroom window. One small concern can suddenly become a committee meeting in my head. I replay past conversations and anticipate problems that haven’t happened yet, trying to solve tomorrow before morning even arrives. It feels as though God is saying, “Just go to bed.” He says this not because the problem doesn’t matter, and not because everything will magically improve tomorrow, but because I am not the one who keeps the world together.

David could sleep because he knew who was awake. “But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.”(Psalm 3:3). That’s the difference. David wasn’t sleeping because his circumstances were peaceful. He was sleeping because God was trustworthy.

Sleep can actually be an act of surrender. I close my eyes and admit that there are things I cannot fix tonight. I release the people I cannot control, the questions I cannot answer, and the tomorrow I cannot see. Then I turn off the light. The world keeps spinning under God’s watchful eye, and I finally discover that it doesn’t all depend on me.

When my mind spins one more worry or tries to solve one more problem before morning, Psalm 3 grounds me with a grown-up version of Little Critter’s bedtime lesson: Just Go to Bed. I can close my eyes and rest, because while tomorrow is unknown to me, God is already there.