Help me not to have any bad dreams

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As a child, I prayed every night before bed. Mom or Dad sat on the edge of the mattress holding my hand as I gave thanks for my blessings that day — a good test score, a friend recovering from fever, the sunny weather. The platitudes were followed by a small list of humble requests. Those too varied day by day, but I'd always end my prayers the same: "And help me not to have any bad dreams tonight. In Jesus' name, Amen."

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I had frequent and recurring nightmares then. The man in the sky didn't always answer my precautionary pleas, but the whispered words were enough solace to soothe my hyperactive mind.

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I don't pray anymore, but I still have the nightmares. Some nights, after waking from a harrowing scene, heart pounding, I find myself mumbling, "Dear Jesus, help me not to have any bad dreams." And I fall back asleep. 

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September, 30, 2024