A Song In the Night

I have long been familiar with the call of coyotes at night. After being awakened from my dreams by their howling, it takes me less than three minutes to plant my feet on the floor, wrap myself up in a house coat, jump into my rubber boots and head out to the barn. I never rest in the fact that the sheep are enclosed in an electric fence. Come certain times, the coyotes follow the deer which follow the creek that runs through our property, very close to my barn. I am sure, my sheep are well known for their distinctive odour in and throughout the surrounding woods, especially on hot summer nights.

It is not the howling of the coyotes that sets my sheep to bellowing loudly, but the appearance of me in the dead of night in my nightie and rubber boots for I bring excitement. I bring food! Before they work themselves up into a fevered pitch, I try to quiet them down by throwing a few flakes of hay at them. It is futile to get them all into the barn where I can lock them safely inside. There are always one or two that hang annoyingly in the dark shadows outside the barn. Finally out of frustration, I yell loudly at the invisible coyotes who by this time have begun to move on, anything to get away from this wild woman in her nightie and rubber boots. It is a familiar happening but it is not the noises of the night outside that disturb me now but the noises within.

For two weeks now, I have had to listen to Danny, my barn cat, howl at the windows at night. He is only now beginning to accept his predicament. It is now the angora rabbit I brought inside, out of the cold, that awakens me each night as he smashes his water and feed dishes around. He has always done this but it has never bothered the sheep very much. Having dashed down the stairs to refill his water dish last night, I had just settled under my lovely woollen blanket, when I heard something ripping paper in the kitchen. Ah yes- that would be Golda, the cat, ripping open the new cat food bag I had unfortunately left on the kitchen table. I chose to remain under my warm blanket knowing that in the morning, there would be a large gaping hole in the food bag. Ellie, my daughter's chinchilla, comes to life each night, running up and down, over and over, rattling her large apartment sized cage as she goes. Hank by this time has decided that this is all too much for him as he gets up, flipping his water dish over to let me know that he is thirsty. Then two seconds later, Pepper, my Schnauzer, decides that it is time to start his day and go outside.

There is no escape! I lie in the midst of one interruption after another, catching some sleep in between each interruption. My mother would say, it is because we have too many animals. Do most people sleep throughout the night uninterrupted? When things are working right, it a wonderful plan of God, to have us go softly into the night to find our rest. But like the plea of Dylan Thomas, I have raged against the dying light and did not go gentle into the good night. The analogy is not perfect but the words work. I know this place well. There have been times that I did not find rest in Him. It is really about waiting. It is all about waiting...waiting to be nourished by the presence of God. We must not let ourselves be troubled as we become focused on ourselves and "disturb the nourishment of the life of God" within in us.

It is light now and I have moved on but in the distance, I can still hear Buttons, my rabbit, continuing to clang his dishes around. I will take a deep breath and quiet myself and as I wait, He will be revealed in me.

As you wait...He will be revealed in you.

"By day the Lord ordains His kindness
and by night His song is with me-
prayer to the God of my life." Psalm 42

This beautiful thought of the psalmist speaks of hearing God's song in the nights or being mindful of God's kindness, he responds in the night with a song.

How lovely!