God is such a better dad than I am, and I think that’s what Jesus’ point is. When his followers wanted to know how to pray, yes, he gave them a template they could follow, but he gave them something so much more. Instead of giving them the magic formula, the special incantation that will bring God out like a genie from a bottle—Jesus gave them something so much better. When asked about how to pray, Jesus gave them an example but then said, “I want to let you in on a secret—you want to know how to pray, but let me tell you about the one to whom you are praying.” Jesus was saying that when we call in the night, it’s good to know the character of our dad.
My eyes burned. My body was telling me that it was time to recharge, but I didn’t want to.
The night before, I hadn’t slept the greatest. Had a dream where my family was at Disneyland. We were having a good time at the park. Somehow though, Disneyland twisted into a Nazi concentration camp. My dream was filled with dread and despair. And then things got worse when the head of the camp decided that I was going to be his new best friend. He tortured me.
Woke up with my heart pounding. I had no recollection of how I was tortured but instead had a deep sense that it had been awful. I didn’t sleep well after that, my dream had felt too real.
Where did the dream come from? What terrible combination of consumed media propelled my mind into such a nightmarish void? I haven’t read any accounts of torture in at least a few years since I read Unbroken. My family and I haven’t even visited a Disney park together.
I’m also not sure how Disneyland became a concentration camp. Maybe, for some parents, that is what Disney feels like?
Supposedly a storm moved through the city last night but I don’t believe it. Beyond a few puddles of water leftover this morning, I never heard a thing.
Shortly after 3:30am, after the “storm” had moved through, my stomach woke me up. It was hot underneath the covers so I threw them off. I laid there for awhile feeling my stomach roll around like a dog. At one point, I thought I heard my son cry out. Time went by and I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I just laid there hoping that eventually dreams would find me once more. The rest of my night was a blur. I think I slept off and on. Rough night.