I Will Both Lie Down In Peace And Sleep

Finding Rest For The Soul When God Alone Makes Us Dwell In Safety

Scripture Reference: Psalm 4:8

“I will both lie down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.”

Some Personal Reflection

Tonight’s devotional is deeply personal for me, because it speaks to something I once cherished, something I took for granted for most of my life, but which has been largely absent for the past twelve years — “sleep.”

Since my diagnosis of Central Pain Syndrome in 2013, my life has followed a routine I never could have imagined. My wife, Cynthia, and our son, Marshall, are often in bed by 6:00 p.m., while I remain awake through the long night hours. Most nights, the only voices I hear belong to prisoners who call me until their tablets are turned off sometime between 10:00 and midnight. After that, the house grows quiet, and I face the night alone.

For reasons I’ve never been able to fully explain, the pain intensifies during the early morning hours. The deep, relentless burning becomes most severe when the rest of the world sleeps. I count the hours until 6:00 a.m., when I can finally lie down. Even then, rest is brief. I’m usually back up and in my office between 8:00 and 8:30, beginning another day.

All my life, I was taught the importance of sleep — that chronic deprivation takes a toll on the body, shortens life, and weakens the mind. Yet God has been remarkably gracious to me. Somehow, despite years of limited rest, I do not grow weary during the day. I never nod off unexpectedly. I have never fallen asleep at the wheel. The Lord has sustained me in ways I cannot explain apart from His mercy.

Still, there are moments when I grieve what has been lost. I never imagined there would come a time when I would speak longingly of “the sweet sleep the Lord gives” — the kind of rest that refreshes the body and prepares the soul for the day ahead. One of the things I miss most is the ability to dream. I no longer reach the deep REM sleep where dreams occur. Since my diagnosis, that world has been closed to me.

The reason is simple and cruel: the moment I lie down, the burning pain surges, making it impossible to drift into restful sleep. My routine never changes. As soon as I lie down, I turn on my favorite Christian radio station and listen to one program after another until morning comes. Scripture, sermons, worship — these have become my nighttime companions.

There is currently no cure and no effective treatment for my condition. Central Pain Syndrome is the result of nerve pain generated by the brain itself. I remain hopeful that, if the Lord wills, medical science may one day discover a way to treat it. Until then, I rest in God’s sovereignty.

After surviving six strokes, I am profoundly thankful simply to be alive — thankful that I can still think clearly, still write, still minister, still serve. Above all, I am grateful that God’s grace has been sufficient. In spite of the constant pain, He has given me strength. He has given me contentment. He has enabled me to continue the work He placed before me, especially in prison ministry.

I share this not to draw attention to suffering, but to testify to God’s sustaining mercy. Sleep may be scarce for me, but God has never been absent.

And that is precisely why Psalm 4:8 holds such power — not only for those who sleep easily, but for those who struggle through the night. David’s words remind us that rest is not merely physical, and safety is not merely circumstantial. Even when sleep is interrupted or elusive, the peace of God remains available.

What David teaches us is that true rest begins in the soul, and it is there — long before the body lies down — that God meets His children with peace, security, and sustaining grace. 

Introduction: Rest In A Restless World

Psalm 4 is one of the most tender, personal, and quietly powerful psalms David ever wrote. It is not a psalm of triumph after victory, nor a song sung from the throne in times of national peace. It is a psalm written in pressure — a psalm born out of conflict, slander, anxiety, and the weariness of a man whose life was anything but calm. Yet it ends with one of the most comforting declarations in all of Scripture: “I will both lie down in peace, and sleep.”

To appreciate the beauty of Psalm 4:8, we must first understand the storm that surrounds it.

Psalm 4 is widely understood to be connected to the same season of David’s life as Psalm 3 — a period of deep personal crisis, very possibly during Absalom’s rebellion. David is not merely facing external enemies; he is facing betrayal from within his own ranks. His authority is being questioned, his reputation attacked, and his legitimacy mocked. Verse 2 reveals the heart of the conflict: “O ye sons of men, how long will ye turn my glory into shame? how long will ye love vanity, and seek after leasing?” David is being slandered. Lies are being spoken. Truth is being trampled.

This is not the cry of a young shepherd but of a seasoned king who knows what it is to be wounded by words, to be exhausted by conflict, and to be surrounded by uncertainty. David is carrying burdens that cannot be solved in a single day. He is living with unresolved tension. And yet, in the midst of it all, he speaks of peace, safety, and sleep.

Psalm 4 unfolds like a prayer at the end of a long, difficult day. David begins by crying out to God for relief: “Hear me when I call, O God of my righteousness: thou hast enlarged me when I was in distress; have mercy upon me, and hear my prayer” (v.1). This is not the prayer of a man untouched by trouble; it is the prayer of a man who knows distress intimately. David acknowledges that God has delivered him before, even when circumstances were tight and suffocating. He is reminding his own soul that God has a track record of faithfulness.

As the psalm progresses, David addresses his enemies, exhorts them to examine their hearts, and calls them to stop sinning in their anger. He reminds them — and himself — that the Lord sets apart the godly for Himself and hears them when they cry. This is a psalm filled with emotional honesty, moral clarity, and spiritual resolve.

Then comes the contrast. In verse 6, David acknowledges a familiar human complaint: “There be many that say, Who will shew us any good?” In other words, people are restless, dissatisfied, anxious, and searching for relief. They want visible improvement, immediate change, and tangible answers. David does not deny this longing. Instead, he redirects it. He prays, “LORD, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us.” He understands that true peace does not come from changed circumstances but from God’s presence.

By verse 7, David declares that God has put gladness in his heart — a joy deeper and richer than material prosperity. And then, almost quietly, almost tenderly, he concludes with verse 8. There is no thunder here. No battle cry. No demand for justice. Just a settled soul.

“I will both lie down in peace, and sleep.”

This statement is remarkable because it is made before the storm has passed. David is not saying, “I will sleep once my enemies are gone,” or “I will rest when the threat is over.” He is saying, “Tonight, in this condition, with unanswered questions and unresolved danger, I will lie down in peace.”

Why? Because his safety does not rest in walls, armies, alliances, or outcomes.

That single word — only — carries immense theological weight. David is declaring exclusive dependence on God. Not partial trust. Not shared confidence. God alone is his security. God alone is his refuge. God alone is the reason he can sleep while danger still lurks.

This is why Psalm 4:8 has been prayed for centuries before bedtime. It is not a child’s rhyme or a sentimental ritual. It is a profound act of faith. To sleep is to surrender control. It is to admit that we are not sovereign, that we cannot guard ourselves through the night, and that our lives are ultimately in God’s hands.

For prisoners, this verse takes on even deeper meaning. Sleep is often elusive behind bars. Noise, fear, regret, anxiety, and unresolved pain haunt the night hours. Many men lie awake replaying past failures, worrying about tomorrow, or grieving what has been lost. Psalm 4:8 speaks directly into that darkness. It offers not escape, but rest — not the absence of walls, but the presence of God.

David teaches us that peaceful sleep is not the result of perfect circumstances but of perfect trust. And that trust is available to every child of God — even in confinement, even in uncertainty, even in the long night seasons of life. 

Main Point One: Peace That Precedes Sleep — The Gift Of A Quieted Heart

Psalm 4:8 begins not with sleep, but with peace. David says, “I will both lie down in peace, and sleep.” This order is intentional. Peace is the soil in which true rest grows. Without peace, sleep may come, but it will be shallow, restless, and fragile. David is speaking of something far deeper than physical exhaustion finally overtaking the body; he is describing a heart that has been quieted before God.

Biblical peace is not the absence of trouble. David’s life at this moment was filled with threats, betrayal, and uncertainty. Yet peace came because he had already placed his burdens before the Lord. Earlier in the psalm, David cried out honestly, confronted sin, instructed his enemies, and prayed for God’s presence. Peace followed prayer. A settled heart followed surrender.

This peace is a gift from God, not a product of human effort. David did not reason himself into calmness or distract himself into rest. He entrusted himself to God’s righteousness, mercy, and care. That is why his peace was stable. It did not depend on circumstances changing, but on God remaining faithful.

For prisoners, this truth is vital. Many men try to sleep without peace. They lay down with unresolved guilt, anger, fear, or regret churning inside. The body lies down, but the soul remains alert, restless, and heavy. Psalm 4 teaches that peace comes when the heart is brought before God honestly and humbly. Confession, repentance, forgiveness, and trust are the pathways to rest.

Peace also requires releasing control. David was king, yet he acknowledged that he could not guard himself through the night. Prison strips men of control in painful ways, but it also teaches a powerful spiritual lesson: only God truly keeps watch. When a man accepts this truth, peace becomes possible even in a locked cell.

Peace before sleep is an act of faith. It says, “God, I place this day, these fears, and this future in Your hands.” That kind of peace does not deny hardship; it rises above it. And when peace settles the heart, sleep can follow as a blessing rather than an escape.  

Main Point Two: Sleep As An Act Of Trust In God’s Sovereign Care

Sleep is one of the clearest expressions of trust God has built into human life. When we sleep, we are unconscious, vulnerable, and defenseless. We cannot protect ourselves, solve problems, or prepare for danger. David understood this, and that is why his declaration is so powerful.

By saying, “I will…sleep,” David is actively choosing trust over fear. He is not waiting for exhaustion to force rest upon him. He is making a conscious decision to entrust his safety to the Lord. This is faith expressed through obedience and surrender.

Scripture repeatedly connects godly sleep with trust in God. Proverbs tells us that the Lord gives His beloved sleep. Jesus Himself slept in the storm, not because the waves were calm, but because He trusted the Father completely. David stands in this same tradition of faith.

For prisoners, sleep can be one of the hardest spiritual battlegrounds. Nights are long. Memories surface. Regret grows louder. Fear of tomorrow presses in. Many men dread nighttime because the distractions are gone and the soul is exposed. Psalm 4:8 speaks directly to that moment.

Choosing to sleep becomes a declaration: “God, I trust You more than my fears. I trust You more than my thoughts. I trust You more than my past.” This does not mean sleep always comes easily, but it reframes the night as a place of surrender rather than struggle.

Trusting God with sleep also teaches patience. The night reminds us that we are not required to carry the weight of the world every moment. God works while we rest. He guards while we sleep. He sustains life without our effort. That realization humbles the soul and lifts a tremendous burden from weary hearts. 

Main Point Three:  Safety That Does Not Depend On Circumstances

David’s confidence rests on a single truth: “For thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.” His safety was not tied to location, security forces, or political stability. It was rooted in God Himself.

The word only removes every false refuge. David is saying that no secondary protection compares to God’s care. This is not reckless confidence; it is settled assurance. He knows that even if danger comes, it cannot touch him apart from God’s will.

This is especially meaningful for prisoners. Physical safety in prison is often uncertain. Environments can be volatile. Control is limited. Psalm 4:8 does not promise the absence of risk; it promises the presence of God. That distinction matters deeply.

To dwell in safety means to live under God’s watchful care, even in unsafe places. It means trusting that nothing reaches us without first passing through His sovereign hand. This truth does not eliminate vigilance, but it removes terror. It replaces fear with confidence rooted in God’s character.

Many men in prison learn to sleep lightly, always alert, always tense. God invites His children to a different posture — not naïve, but trusting. A heart that believes God is sovereign can rest even when the world feels unstable. 

Main Point Four: Nighttime As Sacred Space Between The Soul And God

The night has always been a sacred time in Scripture. It is when God speaks quietly, when fears surface, and when faith is tested. David did not waste the night worrying; he consecrated it to trust.

Psalm 4 shows us that nighttime is not meant only for physical rest but for spiritual release. It is the moment when we stop striving, stop proving, and stop defending ourselves. Sleep becomes worship. Rest becomes obedience.

For prisoners, nighttime can either deepen despair or deepen faith. Psalm 4:8 invites men to transform the night into an altar of surrender. To lie down in peace is to say, “God, You are enough — even now.”

Prison Application: Learning To Rest In God Behind Bars

Sleep in prison is often broken, shallow, or scarce. Noise, lights, fear, and anxiety steal rest from weary souls. I have a dear friend at a nearby prison who called me an hour ago.  In the course of our conversation he mentioned how early in the evening he lays down, knowing that he can get a few hours of sleep.

He has to do this because another man in his pod doesn't go to bed until 1:00 am, and his snoring is relentless, which makes it impossible for my buddy to sleep.  Many men lie awake replaying crimes, sentences, and losses. Psalm 4:8 meets prisoners exactly where they are.

David reminds us that rest begins in the heart. Peace must be pursued before sleep can be enjoyed. That peace comes through prayer, confession, forgiveness, and trust. Men who bring their burdens to God at night find that the cell becomes a place of communion rather than torment.

One of the great joys of prison ministry is seeing men learn this truth. They cannot change their surroundings, but they can change where they place their trust. Many have learned to lay their heads down in peace, not because prison became easy, but because God became sufficient.

When prisoners learn to rest in God, nights lose their power. Fear diminishes. Regret softens. Hope grows. Sleep becomes a reminder that God is faithful even when freedom is delayed.  

Final Thought: When God Gives Sleep To The Soul

Psalm 4:8 is ultimately a testimony to God’s faithfulness. David did not earn his peace; he received it. He did not manufacture safety; God provided it. Sleep became the fruit of a life surrendered to God’s care.

For prisoners, this verse is a lifeline. It promises that even in confinement, God grants rest. Even in regret, God offers peace. Even in uncertainty, God keeps watch.

Sweet sleep is one of God’s quiet mercies. It reminds us that we are loved, guarded, and not alone. When a prisoner sleeps in peace, it is not weakness — it is faith.

God still gives His children rest. And no prison wall can prevent that gift.

Reflection Questions

1. What thoughts most often keep you awake at night?

2. How does Psalm 4:8 challenge the way you approach sleep?

3. What fears do you need to surrender to God before resting?

4. How can prayer become part of your nightly routine?

5. What does it mean for you to trust God with your safety?

6. How has God shown faithfulness to you in past nights of fear?

7. What would change if you believed God truly watches over you while you sleep?

Closing Prayer

Father God,

We thank You that You are the keeper of our souls and the giver of rest.

You see every prisoner lying awake in fear, regret, or sorrow.

Quiet their hearts tonight. Grant them peace that passes understanding.

Teach them to trust You fully. Guard their minds, calm their spirits, and give them sweet sleep.

 May they know that You alone make them dwell in safety. We place our lives, our nights, and our futures in Your faithful hands.

In Jesus’ name, Amen!

From: Fight the Good Fight of Faith / Life Journal: by Gregg Harris