3:33 am

I've been waking up during the night lately.

Quite often.

It seems to happen around 3:30 am.

It's happened about 10 out of the last 14 nights.

This morning, I was deep in sleep when I swear I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. It was as real as could be. Tap. tap. tap. So real, that I quickly woke from my sleep and asked Phil if he was alright. He was just fine, because he was snoring. I repeated myself, "Honey, did you need me? You just woke me up."

"No . . . I didn't. I'm sleeping," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized. "Go back to bed."

I turned over and looked at the clock on my night stand. It was 3:33 am.

Whenever I wake in the middle of the night, thoughts always go to my father. During the last year of his life, I was awoken numerous times by that dreaded phone call during the night telling me something was wrong. I remember the day he passed away . . . a middle of the night phone call, telling us to get to the hospital. He was in cardiac arrest.

He didn't make it. By the time we got there, he was gone.

I don't know the exact time he passed. But I imagine it was pretty close to 3:33 am.

So this morning, as I tried desperately to find sleep again, my thoughts traveled to my dad. Was it him, waking me in the middle of the night? Was he sending me some sort of message? 

My thoughts then traveled to the couple I passed while walking out of Costco on Saturday. They were young, probably early 30's, and an attractive pair. They were pushing a young child in a wheelchair. The child looked close to 7 or 8 years old, and was disabled. The couple . . . they looked exhausted. Absolutely worn out. As I passed them, I grabbed hold of Ella and Katie, and saying a prayer at that very moment . . . asking for God to give this couple strength. Then, I thanked God for my daughters. For my healthy daughters. And for my life.

This morning, as I lay in bed trying to fall back asleep, I imagined the struggles that couple must have gone through, and continues to go through each and every day. Again, I said a prayer for them. For these strangers.

There is no telling why things happen in our lives. No telling why my father left us before he could meet my beautiful daughters. No telling why some children are born sick and disabled. No telling why I am waking up at 3:30 am in the morning. But maybe, just maybe, I woke up to say a prayer for those people. Maybe, just maybe, something was telling me that they needed it . . . right then and there.

So I said a prayer, and I gently fell back asleep.

Whether it's the universe, or God, or whatever you may believe, I feel things are changing in my soul. A sense of peace that I never imagined. My soul is being restored. I feel it.

And it's pretty wonderful.

Wishing you Peace, dear friends.