You’ve likely heard the line: “The Lord grants sleep to those he loves.” So what does my brain conclude when I’m awake in the early hours, trying to get my mind to shut down so my body can get back to sleep? Insomnia already lends itself to negative spirals, so you don’t want to let the thought in that God’s love is measured by the quality or quantity of our sleep.

One morning last month when I finally gave up trying to sleep, I looked up that verse in two versions to capture the nuances. It’s even more confusing, because what does that last line have to do with everything that precedes it?

Let’s dig in and try to put the thoughts together. If only I was working from a bit more sleep…

Notice a few phrases: “Labor in vain.” “Stay awake in vain.” “Rise early in vain.” “Stay up late in vain.” And “anxious toil.” Ultimately all of these situations boil down to a person believing he is indispensable – that everything depends on him.

Or her. Remember that the celebrated wife in Proverbs 31 rises while it is still night to provide food for her household (v15), and her lamp does not go out at night (v18). Lack of sleep is no respecter of gender.

Sleepless nights are particularly a problem for leaders, who are builders, who are watchmen, who are providers and protectors. These roles are not trivial. People’s livelihoods, and even their lives, could be at stake. Knowing the author is Solomon also tells us another piece of context: this house he’s building is the Temple in Jerusalem (1 Kings 5-8). It adds a spiritual element to our roles: as spiritual shepherds and watchmen, we must rely on God to keep watch over the souls of those we lead (Heb 13:17).

The first point of the psalm is that we need to cooperate with God’s work. Unless God is working, the fact we’re staying up late or rising early won’t get us ahead. Better to give it to God and let him carry the burden for us. When we do that, whether it’s at night, during vacations or even during work hours, we are able to release the pressure of holding everything ourselves.

But let’s go deeper. Why does the author—Solomon himself—bring up the fact that we’re beloved? This gets at the heart of why the work doesn’t really depend on us. 

We know God chose Solomon to be king even before he was born. He would be a man of rest, and God himself would call him his son (1 Chronicles 22:9-10). The Lord loved Solomon and even gave him a special name: “God’s beloved” (2 Samuel 12:24-25). When God appeared to him in a dream and he chose wisdom over health and long life (1 Kings 3:10-12), he was not trying to prove his worth because he already had it.

Worthiness is not part of a father’s equation; if a son didn’t earn that status, he can’t lose it or gain more of it through his decisions and actions. That knowledge leads you to a place of deep rest.

Finally, notice that three of the things we do “in vain” take place at night. When I lose sleep at night, it’s because I’m turning things over in my head. As soon as something wakes me, my brain immediately begins racing 100 miles an hour. So at 3am, I’m moving from problem to problem, turning them around and trying to solve them. But I’m not writing anything down. I’m not capturing thoughts. I’m not getting up and working the problem. It’s all in vain.

Anxious toil was Martha’s problem, too. While her sister Mary sat at Jesus’ feet, listening to him, Martha was working hard, “worried and upset about many things” (Luke 10:38-42). I used to think I didn’t have a problem with anxiety, especially compared to others… until I named my sleepless hours for what they are: anxious toil.

So over the past week or two, I’ve been trying something. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I remind myself that I don’t need to do anything to earn or improve my status with God. I hand my anxieties and the sources of those anxieties back to God to hold for the night. I let him be the watchman. Then I try to dwell on what God says about me as his beloved. I picture myself sitting at Jesus feet.

I don’t often quote popes. But sometimes at 3am, I also quote John XXIII’s great line: “This is your church, Lord. I’m going to bed.”