(Chp. 14) Tweens: Swollen Rivers

The Sandman dresses in white clothing. Like Wee Wille Winkie, he wears a pale gown that trails to his ankles with long sleeves and 3 buttons just below a rounded collar. He has a matching white cap which flops to one side and there is a bell on the end, which makes a little tinkle sound as he moves about stealthily. He has white slip-on shoes that make him look like he’s just stepped into a pile of snow. His nose is long and sharp which would make him look very mean if it wasn’t for the big wide grin and twinkle in his beady eyes that are displayed whenever he’s on duty. He enjoys his job immensely and he’s a night worker of course.

As he enters a bedroom, his bony hands carefully twist the doorknob while he purses his lips in concentration. Mustn’t be seen or heard. He slips his hand into his little white pouch and with forefinger and thumb, he grabs a portion of sand. Then as quick as a flash, he pours the fine crystals across the eyes of the person who’s lying in bed with their eyes closed, but not yet asleep. That’s the most exciting bit for him – knowing that the deed is completed without so much as a stir from the victim.

He jumps off the bed, bends his back like an old man and rushes off into the night. A little giggle always escapes as he thinks about how clever he is to finish his deed without being caught. It’s not a wicked laugh; more like one of accomplishment. In the morning, the recipient rubs their eyes and wonders why they are so crusty. Sorry to be disgusting, but those bits stuck to your lashes are the granules of sand that the pale imposter planted on you the night before. He is not a malevolent creature really. The sand is to seal your eyes to help you get to sleep.

This was the story told to my husband when he was an infant and he believed every word of it. His grandmother knew how to use the correct intonation to make the whole event seem more real.

Anwar in turn, takes delight in sitting down with his family to retell the tales of this little man’s nocturnal adventures.

Between you and me, I think The Sandman is still in business, but has expanded his field of expertise. Recently, I have spotted quite a few floodsacks (sandbags) lined up outside the houses of local residents. Unfortunately, this new venture has not been as successful, because they have proved useless in sealing the doors and outbuildings of our neighbours. Subsequently, dirty water has seeped into their houses, destroying everything it has touched.

This has been a regular occurrence across the country. The news programmes have shown many British towns submerged in several feet of sludge, while heavy sacks are piled-up in vain against garden gates, fences, and entrances.

Yep, in England it rains. It cascades. It floods. People get wet. Their shoes become soaked within 2 minutes of a downpour. Worse still, lakes with high water levels overflow, ponds with poor drainage gush into the threshold of low-lying houses and rivers with inadequate defence barriers burst their banks and flow out like miniature waterfalls.

One Saturday, Anwar met Sarah and I in town, to take us home in the car. When he had dropped us off in the morning, the weather had been glorious, but a surge of rain soon appeared, and we faced an afternoon of plump puddles. Not wanting to pay for parking, he had left the car on a side street several minutes’ walk away. Although the land is fairly flat in the town, it seemed like nearby residents had already taken precautions because large, beige hessian sacks were stacked high in many doorways.

“Expecting a flood?” shouted a postman as he handed soggy mail to a lady who was stood at the entrance of her house in a warm fleece.

We ran along the pavement with our heads bowed, jumping over little pools that blocked our way. Like most children, Sarah didn’t mind the torrent because puddles are great fun to jump into. But the deceptive morning weather had inspired her to put on cloth shoes, not the wellington boots she needed right then. Suddenly she stopped, unable to keep up with the pace of her sprinting parents. Anwar said, “Jump on my back and I’ll carry you.”

Like a chimpanzee desperate for safety, she flew onto his back and clung on with all her might. As her dad trotted along, spine bent with the extra weight, she looked like an overgrown koala that had found the last standing eucalyptus tree.

I marvelled at how she tucked her head inside her fluffy hood then rested it on her father’s shoulders so that her face could not be seen. The burden of having to run had been lifted. The terrible weather remained constant, but she was suddenly warm, protected and being carried to her destination.

This father/child relationship was reminiscent to me of how our God desperately wants to carry us when the journey gets too much.

How he desires to lift us up during the storm and protect us from the cold wet splashes!

I love the idea of clinging onto my daddy, in total surrender, just like Sarah was doing on that drippy morning.

The bible says:

I will be your God throughout your lifetime, until your hair is white with age. I made you and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you. (Isaiah 46:4 NLT)

For I hold you by your right hand. I, the Lord your God. And I say to you, don’t be afraid – I am here to help you. (Isaiah 41:13 NLT)

Of course, the Sandman doesn’t really exsist, so we cannot credit him for aiding our slumber. He is just the result of Danish folklore and I am glad I never knew about this Scandinavian darkness creeper when I was little, because I would have not slept any night, tired or not.

In reality, a pleasant night’s sleep is a gift from God, but it is also connected to other good things he bestows upon us, such as peace, health and provision.

We cannot expect him to bless our rest if we have failed to follow his wise advice about casting all our cares on him and giving him our anxieties. One of the reasons he tells us to not fear or worry is so we can have an undisturbed kip. The subject of sickness and hunger is a complex one and it’s not appropriate to start talking about those subjects here, but it is true that when we are not well, comfortable or fed properly, we will struggle with frequent insomnia also.

My prayer is that you will first learn to rely on God for everything, including peace of mind, so that you can have the blissful rest he promised.

There’s a debate as to whether the Sandman originated from Demnark or Germany. One thing is certain in my mind – both these nations love their lager – so I’m guessing in those days it was so strong, it produced some kind of freaky hallucination.

That aside, the next time you are feeling overwhelmed with life’s burdens, look up, Isaiah 43:2. Part of it reminds us that when we pass through the waters, God will be with us and when we pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over us. Isn’t that great! It helps me to sleep and wake up feeling refreshed, ready to face the challenges of the day ahead. I hope you will know this joy too.