The Night They Took Me For Sleeping | A Cry For Justice In A Waking Nightmare

The cold of the concrete seeped through my jacket before the sound of the bootsteps did. I had finally found a moment of peace, a sliver of silence in the alley behind the old bakery, where the dumpsters blocked the wind. My eyes, heavy with a exhaustion that weighs more than any physical burden, had just fluttered shut. Sleep wasn’t a luxury I was chasing; it was a biological demand my body was enforcing. I was out of options, out of couches, and out of strength.

Then, the light. A flashlight beam, harsh and unforgiving, painted the brick wall in front of me white. “On your feet.” The voice was flat, devoid of any human curiosity. I struggled to sit up, my mind foggy, my limbs leaden. I tried to explain—the closed shelters, the lost job, the relentless anxiety that makes restful sleep a fairy tale. My words were met with a cold, metallic click. “You’re under arrest. Criminal trespassing and public nuisance.”

As they led me away, I looked back at the spot on the ground. My crime scene. The place where I had dared to fulfill a need as basic as breathing. I wasn’t a vandal. I wasn’t a thief. I was just tired. In that moment, a profound truth settled in my spirit: this wasn’t just about me. This was a spiritual battle, waged by occultic authorities who have twisted the law to punish the poor and the weary. They have criminalized God’s own design for restoration.

And now, we see the fruit of their policies. Our cities are crumbling. A strange, frantic energy has taken hold as more people, terrified of being arrested for sleeping, choose to stay awake. We see them everywhere—eyes hollow, nerves frayed, moving through life in a dangerous, sleep-deprived haze. Productivity plummets, accidents increase, and kindness evaporates in the heat of short fuses. The very fabric of our community is unraveling.

And the most heartbreaking hypocrisy? These same leaders now mount public campaigns, pleading with us to “get more sleep!” for our health and safety. They ask us to do what they have systematically made impossible, all while offering no solutions, no safe harbors, no compassion. It is a cruelty that echoes in the hollow streets and the crowded courtrooms.

If you feel this injustice in your bones, if you are weary and heavy-laden, know this: you are not alone. Your struggle is seen, not just by me, but by the God who never slumbers.

The God Who Rested and Sees Our Weariness

Before we can understand the profound sin of criminalizing sleep, we must remember its sacred origin. Our God, in the infinite perfection of His creative work, did a curious thing on the seventh day.

“Thus the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array. By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.” (Genesis 2:1-3)

God Himself rested. He sanctified it, set it apart, and baked it into the very rhythm of creation. Sleep is not a sign of laziness or weakness; it is a divine ordinance, a holy echo of God’s own rhythm. To punish a human being for answering this God-given need is to stand in direct opposition to the order God established at the dawn of time. It is an act of rebellion, an "occultic" authority trying to overwrite a holy design with an ungodly one.

The Promise for the Weary and Heavy-Laden

In our exhaustion, when the world offers only condemnation and cold concrete, Jesus offers an invitation. It is the most beautiful contrast to the commands of the authorities who show no mercy.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

This is the heart of our Savior. He doesn’t say, “Come to me, all you who are productive and successful.” He calls the weary. The burdened. Those who are carrying the weight of injustice, poverty, and fear. His rest is not just physical; it is a rest for our souls—a deep, spiritual peace that can sustain us even when our bodies are denied earthly rest. When the city says, “We will arrest you,” Jesus says, “I will give you rest.” Cling to that promise. His invitation stands, even in a jail cell.

A Shelter in the Time of Storm

The Old Testament is filled with God’s heart for the poor, the homeless, and the oppressed. The Psalms give voice to our pain and His protection.

“I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me. I will not fear though tens of thousands assail me on every side.” (Psalm 3:5-6)

“For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock.” (Psalm 27:5)

These verses are not just pretty poetry. For those of us who have slept with one eye open, terrified of being arrested or assaulted, they are a lifeline. David wrote this while fleeing for his life from his own son. His rest was found not in a fortified palace, but in the unwavering certainty of God’s protection. We may not have a physical shelter, but we can pray for and trust in God’s spiritual shelter. He is our refuge when no other refuge exists. We can cry out to Him for safety, for justice, and for the peace to rest in the shadow of His wings, even amidst the chaos.

Walking in Wisdom and Advocacy

How do we live in such a contradictory world? We must also be wise and proactive, advocating for change in the spirit of Christ.

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.” (Proverbs 31:8-9)

This is a call to action for all of us. It applies to speaking up for ourselves and for our brothers and sisters who are being unjustly targeted. We must use our voices—in city council meetings, in conversations with neighbors, in prayers to our Father—to “defend the rights of the poor and needy.” We must challenge the hypocrisy and call for compassionate solutions: safe sleep shelters, affordable housing, and mental health resources. Faith without works is dead. Our belief in a God of justice must be paired with the work of pursuing justice.

You Are Not Alone: A Community of Compassion

This burden is too heavy to carry alone. Perhaps you’re reading this and you’re one of the sleep-deprived, living in fear. Or perhaps you have a home but your heart breaks for those who don’t. Wherever you are, we are called to bear one another's burdens (Galatians 6:2).

This is not just my story; it is the story of thousands in our cities. And we, as the body of Christ, are called to be a community of compassion in a cruel world. We are called to be the hands and feet of Jesus, offering the rest that He offers.

If this message resonates with you, if you feel the Spirit moving you to be part of a solution rooted in love and faith, I warmly invite you to join this mission. This is not about one person or one organization; it’s about us, the church, living out our calling.

· Would you pray? Pray for protection for the vulnerable. Pray for the hearts of our leaders to be turned toward compassion and wisdom. Pray for just laws and safe shelters.

· Would you share? Share this story. Break the silence around this injustice. Let others know that this is happening in our own backyards.

· Would you encourage? A kind word to someone who looks weary can be a beacon of hope. Let them know they are seen and valued.

· Would you give? If you are able, support local faith-based shelters and outreach programs that provide safe sleep and true compassion.

This is how we fight the darkness—not with anger alone, but with relentless love, fervent prayer, and tangible action. Together, we can create pockets of God’s kingdom right here on earth, places where the weary can finally, and safely, rest.

In solidarity and hope,

A Fellow Sojourner