The Wolf and the Shepherd

When I was young, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The next thing I knew, it was morning. A friend once told me, “That’s a blessing.” Now I am older and on most nights I wake at some point. I may lie awake just briefly or for as long as an hour or two. On the whole, I don’t mind it. I figure it’s time God has given me for prayer. I’ve developed a routine. First, I count the day’s blessings. Then I pray, slowly and intentionally, a Glory Be, an Our Father, a Hail Mary, and Psalm 23. Finally, I pray for all the people in my life. I especially like praying Psalm 23, with its green pastures and still waters and high road of righteousness. It’s a lovely nighttime outing. Praying it reminds me of the Hemingway character who, when he couldn’t sleep, mentally fished over the trout streams of his youth. And of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, who, in her dreams, chased butterflies and birds.