As I lay down on the expensive sheets (they make such a wonderful difference with their silky-firm texture and sense of strength, holding me firm, not sagging like the cheap ones do), I consciously collect my thoughts. I want pleasant dreams. My mind will run off into all kinds of nasty directions once I'm sleeping. I ease into position, indulging in laying on my side--something I can't do for long since it will cause pain in my arms, shoulders and even feet. The silence of my room isn't perfect--I hear the low hiss of tires going by out on the street. It's dark--we have heavy curtains closed over the five windows of our room. And it smells nice, too, with the vanilla scent of a candle in the air. But most  important--I direct my thinking towards God in gratitude. I refuse to reflect on the day. It's over. There's nothing more I can do. Instead, I turn my thoughts to thankfulness for God--just God--that He is there, and He knows me. I lay down as his thankful child. I lay down knowing that he cares for me. That I cannot take a good night's sleep for granted. That if I turn my thoughts to the God of the universe in humility, I will go off to sleep in a better state of mind than if I just ignore him and drift into unconsciousness. I'm so daring as to say I love him. Soon enough, conscious praise and thankfulness turns into sleep.