Biola University First Year Student Journals

Dance of the Head-Bobbing

October 28, 2005 | 10 comments

Last week, in a stroke of pure genius, I stumbled across a brilliant technique to help drag my tired body out of bed in the morning. I placed my obnoxiously loud alarm clock on the vanity counter on the opposite side of my dorm room. It's permanently set for 7:00 a.m., so that after a good night's sleep (say, four hours - this is college), I am forced to climb up out of my bunk to turn it off.

This process is far more complex than it sounds. On a typical morning, I'll be sleeping like a rock. My roommate Jenny will be sleeping in her clothes amid a stack of crumpled notebooks, indicating another unsuccessful all-nighter. Mindy will be burrowed in her bedspread, shielding her eyes against the sunlight that's seeping through the blinds we just never get around to closing. At least one of us will be sleep talking.

And suddenly, in the middle of that peaceful morning scene, that hideous alarm clock will suddenly explode.

I don't think anything sounds good at 7 in the morning. Anything. If someone came in with a harp and woke us up with that, I think I'd hate harps. I'd hate harpists. While I was at it, I'd probably hate cherubs too. Still, there's something particularly loathsome about that little white digital alarm clock when it goes off in the morning. It's that in-your-face electric beep that sounds every 0.4 seconds without fail, like a bomb about to detonate. I absolutely have to turn it off. It's just kind of... scary.

The trek down off my perch of a bunk bed is harrowing. Because there are belongings for three people stuffed in a room built for two, and because we did a poor job arranging those belongings, turning off the alarm means hoisting myself over the side guard rail, getting a foothold on the 4-inch wide ledge of desk between my printer and miscellaneous piles of books, and jumping the remaining three feet to our shoe-strewn floor. By the time I make it to the alarm clock, I'm completely awake and have burnt 50 calories.

My technique works like a charm.

But the problem isn't getting up. That devilish little alarm clock solved that: I have disciplined myself to wake up early and finish homework on time for classes at noon. The problem is staying awake during classes, chapel, and personal quiet time with God.

College students aren't expected to be anything but sleep deprived. I use that as an excuse to stay up until 2 or 3 in the morning talking, making phone calls, checking my email, eating mini marshmallows.

Then, the next day in class, everyone gets to watch me do the head-bobbing dance as I fight a fruitless battle against dozing off. I miss the most engaging chapel message because I'm spending those 15 minutes jabbing my arm with a mechanical pencil, hoping the pain will somehow snap me out of it.

Last week was Torrey Bible Conference, which is a three-day event on campus dedicated to renewing the student body spiritually. Classes were cancelled and guest speakers came. There was fabulous worship and plenty of truth to implement in my life.

Considering some use Torrey as a chance to get out of town, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I went to nine of the ten sessions, arriving on time to every one, and never showing up in pajamas, either.

But without fail, I would start the head-bobbing dance about ten minutes into the message. The notes I was taking would start slurring illegibly off the page. I'd have to whip out the mechanical pencil and stab away, because I was just too sleepy.

On Thursday, Francis Chan was speaking about desiring God and not just His blessings. Now keep in mind that hearing Francis speak is like taking three shots of espresso. He's that dynamic, and I was hooked. He asked us this question: could we be satisfied in heaven without God? Are we really in love with Him, or is it all the blessings and the promise of happiness in heaven we're in love with?

Ouch. That one hit hard.

I couldn't say whether I would be happy in a Christ-less heaven. But I knew for sure that my relationship with God wasn't looking like David's when he wrote, "My soul longs and even faints for you." When I'm reading His word or praying, I miss half of it because I'm so tired. It's not quality time anymore, but rather a hasty pre-bed ritual.

I know God wants to use these four years in my life to draw me closer to Him. He's blessed me with a school where God is a discussion topic in every class and friends ask each other for prayer requests. He's definitely drawing near to me, but if I'm dozing away these college years, I'm going to sleep my way out of a passionate, irresistible relationship with God.

The biggest thing God showed me through Torrey? That 1:00 (or earlier) is bedtime. Even when the Internet is calling my name, even when the girls across the hall pop in a movie. My offering to God is six or seven hours of sleep instead of three, so that our time together in the morning can be sweet and I can honestly say, like David did, "Better is one day in your courts than thousands elsewhere."

Journal Entries

• Swimming Through School
• Dance of the Head-Bobbing
• A Week in the Woods
• No Job, No School, and Six Weeks of Break
• Narnia Premiere Night - Just Short of a Fairy Tale
• Dating Churches
• Sabbath
• Musings on Torrey Honors and Jacuzzis

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