Bedtime and the Gospel

I write this, sitting on my couch and listening to my two oldest children airing various grievances from their beds: I’m hungry! I’m thirsty! I need to blow my nose! I want the nightlight on! My stomach hurts! The music is too quiet! I need to use the potty! I need a hug/kiss/drink of water/fill-in-the-blank!

Spoiler Alert: They’re tired. They need to sleep.

This happens every night, and it’s ALWAYS worse on Thursday nights. Always. This Thursday was no different.

I joke that it’s as if bedtime is this totally new thing every night. 7:00pm rolls around, we start telling them to get ready for bed, and they’re like, What? We didn’t know we had to go to bed tonight?!

How? How does this happen? It would be funny if it didn’t make every night so hard. I find myself losing patience with them. I hear the frustration in my voice. I can be too firm, and the last words they hear from me before finally settling down to sleep are not kind ones.

Tonight after having to be very firm with them, I shut their bedroom door and, exhausted and outdone, thought, why? Why is it like this every night? Why do they act so disobedient and disrespectful? We have disciplined, we have been consistent, we have given them boundaries. We have a bedtime routine…isn’t that supposed to make bedtime peaceful and easy?

Then it hit me: I’m expecting discipline, consistency, and boundaries to do something only the gospel can do. My children are sinners. They need Jesus. That’s why they disobey and disrespect.

Then something else hit me, even harder: Just because my kids get crazy at bedtime doesn’t mean I should. I need Jesus. Just like my kids seem to forget every night that bedtime is a thing, I can quickly forget how desperately I need my Savior.

I need him in the morning, when my children are pinging off the walls before I’ve had coffee. I need him when we are running late, rushing out the door to get to school on time, and one kid has somehow forgotten he has to wear shoes to school. (Huh?!) I need Jesus when I’m trying to get work done and my two toddlers dissolve the last roll of toilet paper in the toilet (that really happened). I need him when I just want a few minutes of quiet in the afternoon, but my 3 year old won’t nap. I need Jesus when the big kids get in the van after school and immediately start fighting, when they’re running wild through the house and/or crying at my feet while I try to cook dinner. And I need Jesus at bedtime. All day, every day, I need him.

And he is with me! He never leaves us (Matt. 28:20). He is praying for us in our moments of need (Rom. 8:34). His power works best in our weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). He hears our prayers when we call out to him (1 Peter 3:12), and he has given us all that we need to do what he’s called us to do (2 Peter 1:3). Isn’t that good news? We can trust that all of these promises are true because God does what he says he will do. He said he would send a Savior, and he did. If he would give up his own son, then surely he will give me what I need to get through the day. Surely he will keep his promise to finish the work he has started in me.

Bedtime is hard. Mothering is hard. Life is hard. But Jesus is good, and he is all we need.