For the first 5 ½ years of my marriage, sleep was never an issue. We enjoyed going to bed anytime and also waking up at any time we wanted. Maybe I should back up and say: Sleep is a core need in my life and in Alastair’s. For us to be happy functional people, we need our 8 hours (or maybe 9). So the first few years we really never had to wrestle with perpetually bad sleep impacting our relationship, except for the occasional bout of insomnia for Alastair.

And then things changed.

For about 8 months, sleep has become a precious commodity. It is bartered and traded between the two of us like the purest gold. We weigh it, measure it, attempt to come to fair terms of commerce, but ultimately have hopes that the other person will cave to our own price.

“You can sleep in tomorrow, but I have work so maybe you will let me have the extra hour? I will shower you with love and kisses and make you breakfast the next day.”

“No, I have to get stuff done and cannot give that hour up. What, do you think I can just take a nap anytime?”

Back and forth it goes. I won’t bore you with our bickering, but suffice to say, it gets old really fast and often we both leave the conversation wishing the other would have sacrificed for our good.

What’s worse is that even in the morning the bartering can continue. This morning was a bad trade. It was “my turn” to sleep in, but Alastair after having a restless night cried out for mercy. His plea struck a chord, but it wasn’t kindness, it was a begrudging sense of duty. I thought, “I will do this for him because he asked, even though I am hating it, and will most likely be bitter and rub it in his face later.”

What a great way to start the day. I was perturbed to say the least. And sure enough bitterness took hold and I had my chance to jab him a few times once he woke up. Sadly this has happened often in the last 8 months; Needs unmet on both sides. Bitterness. Anger. Snarky come-backs. Belittling.

I want to say we are better than this. Or after one week without sleep, we learned our lesson and mastered the kind, sacrificial, merciful walk of Christ. But alas, we are total jerks when we don’t have sleep.

Anyway, there has been one saving grace, and I mean grace:

The Do-Over.

God doesn’t say, “do right or else” he is a God who says, “do right or do over.”

This has been a gift from God. Literally. There is usually this moment when tempers are stirring and tears are brimming and tongues are being bitten, that we just experience a hush. It’s kind of like the silent treatment, but sometimes I think we are both just trying to figure out the next move to get what we want. This may be too honest, but heck, it’s true and I know we are not alone.

Anyway, in this moment, I think that we start realizing we are fighting a losing battle. Trying to get more sleep by arguing about it has not solved anything. And trying to lawyer one another just builds hurt and resentment. It is like trying to write a thesis in shaving cream: eventually it all starts slipping down the wall, one word blurring into another and making a big mess. You cannot even remember what your initial argument was because you are standing in a pile of melted white goo that once had a point.

Following the hush, realizing our inevitable defeat, on a good day, come the most relieving words: through sheepish grins, “Do-over?” It’s our chance out of the mess we have made. It is a clean slate, a reboot, a new morning.

There is this sweet and poetic verse in the Psalms, “His mercies are new every morning.” I think I usually like its prettiness. But today I like its weight and strength and truth.

If I cannot even get along with a man I love because I am tired, and I need so much mercy from him (and he from me), how do I even stand a chance with a holy and good God?

Well, simply put, we stand a chance because He is merciful. He sees us, all of us, the tired, cranky, bitter, snarky side of us and says, “Do over, forgiven.” He lets us restart our day a 1,000 times and more. He does this because he would rather be in relationship with us than cast us aside where we actually belong.

And He isn’t soft or a push-over or negligent in letting sin pass. He chooses to let us hurt him and still stand and take it rather than abandon us. He chooses to forgive us rather than condemn us or imprison us.

Why?

I have no quick answer other than pointing to the greatest act of mercy ever, when on the cross he sopped up our mess, paid for any damages, and gave us a clean slate. He is a God of mercy who gives blessings to those undeserved for no better reason than grace, just because of who he is: merciful. He knows us and does not ask for us be perfect or earn his love. He isn’t a God who says, “do right or else” he is a God who says, “do right or do over.”