It’s getting late, that’s the way it is.

I joke often that I’m a bit like a toddler when it comes to sleeping. I love it, but I fight it almost every night in some form or another.

It’s no secret that the moments before drifting off to dreams are filled with some of our most tumultuous thoughts – worries for loved ones, hopes for the day ahead, memories of ex-lovers. It’s a mix of all things we don’t bother with during the day. There are always tasks to complete, places to go, people to see. So they just get forgotten, some of the most precious thoughts we have, exiled to the moment before we lose sight of this little world we live in.

I don’t really dream much while I’m sleeping – well, I don’t have the kind of dreams I remember – probably because I spend so much time daydreaming before I sleep. It’s hard to really control what a brain does when it’s that tired, so I let it run free. I think of my hopes for the future in whatever capacity that looks like for the evening – dreams of a family, careers I might have, places I might see, exotic locals I might meet. I worry about my family and friends and all of my deepest fears about each of their lives. I think about the reasons I love myself and why I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. I scold myself for bad decisions and often wonder what the right answer should have been. I thank God for all of the things I didn’t deserve. I praise him for the grace he gives me so freely.

And all of these emotions – this love and fear for life and hopes for the future and fears for the same. This wonder at the beauty of what I’ve been blessed with and anguish for things I don’t understand. This resentment for things I’ve done wrong and hurt I’ve felt and caused. The peace that comes with unconditional love and a complete lack of understanding of such things, and thankfulness in the same moment.

It all culminates in the 30 seconds before my eyes close. This sense of peace I’ll never quite understand completely.

It makes up for the tiredness I’ll feel tomorrow.