Insomnia: A Spiritual Attack?

It’s 3:17 a.m. Again.

You’re not exactly watching the clock. But out of frustration that you can't sleep you looked at it again. And you still haven't fallen asleep.

You get frustrated, not just because insomnia is incredibly annoying, but because you know if you don't get your sleep you won't be able to face the next day properly.

You have a lot of plans tomorrow. That meeting at nine. The children have to be fed and out to the bus early.

And here you are, staring at the ceiling, running mental laps around a conversation from three days ago, or rehearsing a worry about something that might never happen.

Or you're just lying there, wide awake for no discernible reason.

You tell yourself it must be the coffee. Or stress. Or hormones. Or the news you scrolled through before bed.

And any of these could be true.

But have you ever considered that the enemy of your soul might be behind it? That maybe this is actually a spiritual attack? Not that the devil is necessarily there making noise to keep you awake, but might have subtly whispered earlier to have that cup of coffee even though it was 8:00 p.m. Or he whispered those worries in your ear. Or he spoke to your pride, and stoked a kind of righteous-anger that has you holding court in your head, debating with someone who wronged you, as you imagine yourself finally prevailing over the situation.

We are quick to identify spiritual attack when it's more obvious. In that overt temptation. In a wave of inexplicable despair. In a kind of rage or anger that seemed to come out of nowhere.

But the enemy does not always work in such overt ways. He is patient. He is strategic. And he knows, in a matter of speaking, that sometimes the best way to win a battle against you is not to storm the fortress, but to cut starve you out. To surround the "fortress" of your soul with a barrier that prevents the nourishment your body and soul needs from getting through.

 

The Vulnerability of the Tired Soul

Scripture actually says a lot about sleep, more than most of us realize.

From the very beginning, sleep is what God used to give man the perfect helpmate, his wife: ”So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and while he slept took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh” (Genesis 2:21).

Sleep is where Jacob dreamed of the ladder ascending to heaven (Genesis 28). Sleep is where Joseph, the husband of Mary, received a message from an angel that reassured him he could stay with his wife, and that the child in her womb would save God's people from their sins (Matthew 1–2).

Sleep, in the biblical imagination, is not merely biological necessity. It is a place of profound receptivity, where the guarded, controlling self relaxes and God can act unhindered.

Which is precisely why it becomes contested ground.

Because the enemy loves to weaken us through exhaustion.

Consider that curious moment in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus, in agony over what he's soon to experience, returns three times to find His closest friends asleep. And He tells them: "Watch and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak" (Matthew 26:41).

Sleep, here, is the enemy of vigilance. But it's precisely because the disciples are tired and exhausted at the wrong moment.

When we cannot sleep, when we're tired the next day, our defenses are weakened. We cannot stand guard as we should. It's very difficult to pray effectively when we're tired. Sleep-deprivation tests our patients, and our capacity to love. We become, in a very real sense, spiritually flattened when we do not get proper sleep.

Saint Peter, who was one of those disciples who could not stay awake in the Garden, later wrote something that has always struck me as slightly ironic given his history: "Discipline yourselves; keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8).

The Greek word behind “keep alert” is grēgorēsate, and the word comes from the same root as the one Jesus used at Gethsemane. It literally means to stay awake, to be watchful. Peter had learned by hard experience that drowsiness, exhaustion, could lead to disobedience. In a small way, it might have seemed at the time, it separated Him from His Lord. But the gravity of his absence in that moment cannot be overstated.

 

Why The Enemy Comes at Night

There is an old maxim from the desert fathers, that the demons attack the beginner with obvious temptations and the advanced soul with subtle ones. If you are new to prayer, you may be tempted by the flesh, by fits of anger, by unchecked pride. Truth is, though, that even the mature Christian still fights these battles. Though, in the maturity of faith, we learn more how to fight against them.

But think about it. If your prayer life has begun to bear fruit, if you are drawing genuinely closer to God, the enemy might realize his old "easy" tactics need refinement. So he works more subtly. The attacks seem a little quieter. More easily dismissed. More easily blamed on natural causes.

An attack on sleep is the perfect example.

Think about who you sometimes become when you have not slept well.

You are shorter of temper. You cry more easily. You catastrophize. Small problems become exaggerated. Your prayer feels dry and distant, because your brain literally cannot focus properly.

You skip your usual devotions, maybe even church, because you’re exhausted. You don't get in your usual morning prayer because you couldn't drag yourself out of bed... since you only finally fell asleep just two hours before your alarm sounded.

You reach for the phone instead of your Bible or your prayer book because scrolling requires no cognitive effort.

You snap at your spouse. You yell at your children. And then you feel guilty about it, and the guilt becomes a kind of weight that exhaust you more. And then, the next night, you are awake again rehearsing your guilt in your mind.

There is a kind of diabolical elegance to this strategy. The enemy no longer needs to tempt you with any "big" sin. He simply wears you down until you have no reserves left.

The greatest spiritual battles are not usually won by dramatic heroics but by the quiet acts of faithfulness during normal, ordinary, days. Take away the ordinary energy the day requires you are at risk of losing the battle.

Saint Paul, no stranger to spiritual warfare, wrote: "For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 6:12).

The powers of darkness. It is no accident that darkness is the metaphor Paul reaches for. And it is in the literal darkness of night are most acutely attacked by the devil.

 

Discerning the Source

Now, I don't want to overstate this. Not every sleepless night is a spiritual attack. Sometimes you drank too much coffee, and you'd had it early enough that it typically wouldn't have affected you. For some reason, tonight, it did. Sometimes your body is fighting off an illness. Sometimes there is a medical or hormonal reason that needs to be addressed with your doctor. To attribute every physical symptom to demonic activity is superstitious and unhelpful.

But how do we discern? A few things we might take note of.

First, notice patterns. Does the insomnia intensify precisely when your spiritual life is deepening? Just after you finally opened up about a sin and started to tackle it head-on? When you have committed to a new prayer discipline? The enemy is opportunistic and reactive.

Second, notice the content of what's percolating in your head. Are the thoughts that torment you at 3 a.m. thoughts that would edify anyone? Do they lead to trust, to hope, to charity? Or are they thoughts of despair, of resentment, of self-loathing, of situations that are outside your control? Notice where your thoughts lead. Thoughts from God, even when they involve conviction of sin, lead to peace and forward motion. Thoughts from the enemy lead to agitation, paralysis, and the deepening of shame.

Third, notice the futility. Ordinary anxieties, even when they wake you up, tend to have some resolution, at least in the form of a plan you can make. The attacks are recognizable by their circularity. You cannot solve them, and you won't no matter how many hours you lay there stewing over them. You cannot pray them away easily. They loop and loop like a broken record.

 

The Peace of Christ in the Watches of the Night

There is a beautiful pattern in the Psalms of watching through the night with God rather than against Him. "I lie awake; I am like a lonely bird on the housetop" (Psalm 102:7). "When I think of you on my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night, for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy" (Psalm 63:6–7). "I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me" (Psalm 16:7).

The Psalmist knew sleeplessness. And rather than fighting it in isolation, he transformed it into communion. The night watches became not a battlefield but something more like a sanctuary.

Here's another good one: "It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives sleep to his beloved" (Psalm 127:2). Sleep, here, is a gift. Not something you achieve by effort. Not something you earn by good behavior. A gift given to the beloved.

If sleep is a gift, then the withholding of it, whether by the enemy or by your own runaway mind, becomes an occasion not for panic but to pray and ask. Ask the Giver. Ask again. Ask like a child who cannot fall asleep and out of their fear asks their parent to sit at their beside.

 

Practical Steps for the Sleepless Christian

So, what to do the next time you find yourself awake at 3 a.m.?

First, do not fight the wakefulness as an enemy. This only produces more agitation. Instead, receive the wakefulness as an unexpected appointment. If the Lord has awakened you, or allowed you to be awakened, then perhaps He has something to say. Or perhaps He simply wants you to rest in Him.

Second, if you think it's an attack, name it. There is a kind of power in recognizing it for what it is. You do not have to be dramatic. Simply say, quietly: “In the name of Jesus Christ, if this sleeplessness is not from God, I renounce it, and I ask for the peace of Christ to guard my heart and mind.” Then let it go. Repeat it if you must, if the thoughts keep returning, but not as a magic formula. Treat it as a prayer of surrender.

Third, have something nearby you can redirect to, something prayerful. Not your phone, because even if you pray from your phone, the screen can condition you to stay awake longer. Perhaps a prayer book. Maybe a Bible with a psalm that's relevant bookmarked. Perhaps a memorized prayer that his a kind of comfortable rhythm to it. Compline, sometimes called "Night Prayer," which has been used by monks and nuns for centuries, was written precisely to lead us into rest. It includes these words: Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit. It is what Jesus said as He died. It is a prayer for letting go and entrusting your self to God.

Fourth, examine your evenings. Are you feeding the enemy ammunition? Doomscrolling right before bed, watching disturbing content, going to sleep on unresolved anger with a spouse, these are all open doors. "Do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil" (Ephesians 4:26–27). Notice the direct link Paul draws between unresolved anger at bedtime and giving the devil room.

Fifth, take practical care of your body. Grace builds on nature. If you are drinking coffee at 8 p.m., of course you cannot sleep. They say even drinking at 4 p.m. is too late. If your bedroom is a chaos of stimulation, it won't help. Sanctify the room. Sanctify the routine.

Sixth, and perhaps most important, remember that even a lost night is not a lost soul. If the enemy has stolen your sleep, he has not stolen your baptism. He has not stolen your faith. He has not stolen the love of the Father for you. Tomorrow you may be exhausted, but you can still whisper the name of Jesus. And that name, whispered in weariness, is still more powerful than any lie spoken by the enemy.

The One who neither slumbers nor sleeps is watching over you (Psalm 121:4). Even now. Especially now.

Rest, beloved. And when you cannot rest, keep watch with Him.