The Morning Alarm

I lay down and slept; I awoke, for the Lord sustains me. Psalm 3:5  NASB

Awoke – There are times, perhaps too often, when I just can’t sleep.  I lay down and the memories of past actions creep into my consciousness, reminding me of my failures, my guilt, my remorse.  I can’t shove them aside.  They pursue me into the depths of the night until I am exhausted.  And then I open my eyes and it’s daylight.  I don’t know when I actually fell asleep.  I just know that somehow I did and now it’s another day.  When I think about why sleep is so furtive, I realize that those nighttime battles occur because I don’t have an inner sense of peace.  I’m not like the psalmist who can write, “I lay down, and slept.”

But wait!  Maybe the translation has misrepresented the psalmist’s circumstances.  If I look at the grammar, I discover that while the first verb (to lay down—šākab) is a qal perfect, that is, a present finished act, but the second verb (yāšēn—to sleep) is a wawyiqtol (waw-consecutive + imperfect).  That means it isn’t “slept,” in the past tense.  It’s one of those Hebrew verbs that actually involves all the temporal span—past, present, and future.  This unusual verbal pattern also occurs in the second phrase.  The first verb, yāqaṣ (to awake) is a hif’il, qatal perfect.  The ”perfect” aspect means this is a completed present act.  It’s hard to imagine how waking up could be anything else.  But the hif’il form suggests that something caused the waking.  In other words, I didn’t wake myself up; rather I was made to wake up.

This has enormous implications.  The conjunction kî (translated in the NASB as “for”) can also mean “surely, thus, but, when, except, because, if, in case of,” and more.  It is utterly contextual.  Now imagine the difference in this verse if I translate kî as “when,” or “because.”  Is the psalmist saying that he wakes when God causes him to wake, or because God causes him to awake?  If that is the case, then the verse implies that waking is, in fact, the proof of God’s sustaining activity, and it is God who determines if I awake to my reality.  Now we can understand why the second verb in this phrase, sāmak, is a yiqtol imperfect, that is, an unfinished action.  Every time I open my eyes from sleep, God has shown His sustaining power in my life.  I realize that I only awake because He causes me to awake.  If God does not sustain me, I will not wake up.  All of this underlines the fact that my reality, my very consciousness, is found in Him, not in me.  That I am caused to awaken is all the proof I need that God continues to give me life.  The morning prayer of Judaism says precisely this: “I give thanks before you, living and eternal King, for You have returned my soul to me with compassion; Your faithfulness is great.”

Return to the verb yāšēn—to sleep.  Remember it is a waw-consecutive.  Doesn’t this imply that my “sleeping” is past, present, and future unless and until God sustains—wakens—me?  Am I really conscious if I have not been awakened by God?  Do I really have life—any life—apart from His sustaining action?  Paul didn’t think so.  Perhaps we are blind to our own reality, asleep so to speak, because we have not understood the depths of the psalmist’s statement.  All of this reminds me of a Genesis account, namely, the “sleep” God caused to fall over Adam when He created the woman—and the changed reality Adam discovered when he woke up!

Topical Index: yāšēn, sleep, šākab, lay down, yāqaṣ, wake, sāmak, sustain, kî, Psalm 3:5