One night recently I was laying awake turning over the events of the day. As appears to be happening a lot at the moment sleep was being kept at bay by a busy brain - why is it that something that is usually so effortless (falling asleep) can sometimes feel like an utterly unreachable goal? Sometimes I can lie there tossing and turning, straining and stressing; trying to do all the right things to establish the conditions needed for sleep to come and take hold of me.
On this particular night I conceded defeat and switched on my reading lamp in attempt to read myself into a coma. I picked up where I'd left off in a novel about the Roman Empire (hereby completing my 'thinks about the Romans' quota for another day).
I read a scene about a fight in an amphitheatre in which a troop of gladiators worked together and acquired a victory. The men were summoned to appear before the emperor. My eyes were becoming heavy, the book's magic was working. The emperor asked the group "who is your captain?" and then I put the book down. Sleep wasn't far away now and as I lay there my previously tangled mind toyed with that phrase over and over, around and around: who is your captain? who is your captain? who is your captain?
In my restlessness I'd been wrangling thoughts about people's opinions, critiques and concerns. I'd been trying to switch my brain off from trying to win imaginary arguments...
Who is your captain? Came the response of my mind.
"Why does he always react like that, can't he see what I'm trying to do?"
Who is your captain?
"I wonder what her agenda is in asking that question..."
Who is your captain?
"But what's that got to do with anything anyway!"
Who is your captain?
The solution to sleep's evasiveness presented itself: Jesus. Jesus is my captain. I need only worry about and concern myself with Jesus' opinion.
Jesus.
I live and die by Jesus' words. I stand guilty or free by Jesus' assessment.
And, sleep...
In life (and especially in church life it seems!) people have always managed to find reasons to fall out with one another. Paul and Barnabas had such a sharp disagreement that they separated over it. It's ever been the case that trust and relationships breakdown and in a culture like ours, one that stirs up ire and treats indignation as virtue, it is all but inevitable.
How are tender hearts and strong minds supposed to relate to one another in a world like this?
How can we lead with conviction without being hamstrung by the inevitability of dissent?
Answer: by keeping mindful of the fact that Christ is our captain and that it's to him and him alone that we must appear and give an account of our lives. His assessment is the only one that counts. We cannot please everyone and neither are we expected to. We cannot please everyone but we must please this One. Having the applause of people but the displeasure of Christ is akin to gaining the whole world and yet forfeiting ones soul.
This mindset and this alone is what can help preserve one's sanity and conviction in a world of compromise and criticism.
Who is your captain? The apostle Paul clearly had this in mind when he spoke of finishing the race and pressing on for the upward prize.
Try this question on for size when you're struggling to sleep one night, recall Bible verses that put your life under Christ's reign. Don't tear yourself up at night worrying and overthinking about what all the people in your life and work think of you. Aim instead to be concerned with the opinion of just one person's: his.
It's easier said than done of course, but it might at least help you get some rest.