The prayer for peaceful sleep is a prayer for the gift of God, for we do not merely compose our bodies and so sleep, no, it is He who grants rest to His beloved. Yet mark this: there is a sleep that is the counterfeit of peace, a carnal security that lulls men while sparks of judgment fly about their faces. Seek not that slumber. The rest you crave comes only to the conscience quieted by the blood of Jesus, for with the world, ourselves, and God we must be at peace ere we sleep. Has the healing leaf of His pardon touched you? Then you may lay your head down as Abram did, seeing the smoking furnace and the burning lamp, yet hearing, “Fear not, I am thy shield.”
You ask for safety and peace to surround your family. Deep calls unto deep, the depth of your need cries out to the depth of His grace. Human misery is a chasm, but divine mercy is a deeper gulf that swallows it entirely. The Lord keeps in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Him, not because sorrows cease, but because trust anchors the soul. With loved ones near or far, in Jesus’ keeping you are safe. The leaves of that Tree are for healing, not only the grand fruit of His atonement, but the least whispers of His love carry virtue to mend broken hearts and restore wounded relationships. He binds up the shattered spirit; He exalts the low tree.
But hear this caution: the demon of restlessness flees only before the Spirit’s own peace. Some feel such consciousness of sin they can hardly sleep; let them fly to the Healer who forgives and heals in one word: “Son, be of good cheer; thy sins are forgiven thee.” Healing and pardon are not separate streams but one flood from the pierced side. If there be relationships in need of mending, bring them beneath the shadow of that Tree whose very leaves are medicine. The chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His stripes we are healed, not souls only, but the tangled threads of earthly loves.
So as you seek His care tonight, let not your prayer be a mere lullaby for the flesh. Wake rather, in the depths of your being, to cling to Jesus. The sleep He gives to the beloved is a sleep of security, not because danger is absent, but because He is present. Over your dwelling, over every bed, over every trembling heart, may the peace of God which passeth all understanding stand sentinel. He that keepeth Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps; you are safe. In your lying down and rising up, may the deep of His love call to the deep of your consecration, and may you find that to do His will is rest indeed.