There’s a unique stillness that comes with sleepless nights, a strange and quiet solitude when the world seems to pause, yet inside, everything is racing. The clock ticks softly, marking the passing hours, but rest refuses to come. You lie awake, exhausted but restless, your body heavy with fatigue, your mind tangled in thoughts that seem louder in the darkness. The more you long for sleep, the more elusive it becomes.

Sleepless nights have a way of magnifying everything. The small worries that seemed insignificant in the daylight now loom large, casting long shadows over your mind. Every unspoken word, every unresolved conflict, every unfulfilled hope—suddenly, they’re all here, crowding the quiet space of night, demanding attention. It feels suffocating, like being trapped in a fog of thoughts you can’t escape from.

In the midst of the tossing and turning, you may find yourself praying, almost as a reflex. At first, the prayers might be simple: “God, help me sleep.” But as the hours stretch on, the prayers deepen. In the stillness, your soul begins to speak the words that you’ve been too busy to say during the day. You pour out your heart—your fears, your doubts, your longing for peace. In the sleepless night, it’s as if the veil between you and God thins, and even in your weariness, there is a strange intimacy.

It’s in these long, difficult nights that you realize God is there, awake with you. Scripture tells us that “He who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep” (Psalm 121:3-4). God is present, not just in the vibrant energy of the day but in the quiet, painful hours of the night when you feel most alone. He is awake with you, attentive to your every thought, listening to the unspoken cries of your heart. His presence, like a gentle whisper, offers comfort even when rest won’t come.

And maybe that’s the lesson of the sleepless night. We long for the relief of sleep, for the escape from our racing minds, but perhaps God meets us most intimately in our restlessness. When we are stripped of our distractions, we are faced with the rawness of our humanity, our deep need for His presence, His peace. And in that vulnerability, we encounter a love that never sleeps, a grace that holds us even when the night feels unbearable.

It’s in these sleepless hours that we also remember we are not the first to experience them. The Bible speaks of many who endured sleepless nights. The psalmist writes, “I am worn out from my groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears” (Psalm 6:6). Jesus Himself, in the garden of Gethsemane, spent a sleepless night in agony, praying fervently to His Father. Even He knew the weight of long, painful nights. And yet, through it all, He was sustained by the Father’s love and presence.

Though the night feels long, though the weariness of sleeplessness weighs heavy, the dawn always comes. Morning will break, and with it, a reminder that God’s mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23). The sleepless night doesn’t last forever, and in its wake, we often find a deeper sense of God’s grace. His comfort may not come in the form of sleep, but it comes nonetheless—in His quiet presence, in the reminder that we are never truly alone, even in the darkest hours.

So, if tonight is another sleepless night, lean into the stillness. Offer your racing thoughts to the One who never sleeps, who watches over you with a love that is constant, even when you feel exhausted and worn. Let the night become a sacred space, a place where you meet God in the depths of your heart. And when the dawn finally comes, know that you have been held through it all by the One who never leaves you, not even for a moment.