The Night Shift at St. Mary's NICU

In the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital in Grand Rapids, Michigan, nurse Elena Vasquez works the overnight shift. From 11 p.m. to 7 a.m., she watches over twelve fragile infants — monitoring heart rates, adjusting oxygen levels, responding to every alarm. The babies never know she's there. They sleep, fuss, cry, and sleep again, completely unaware of the woman whose eyes never leave them.

One night, a father named Marcus pressed his face against the glass at 3 a.m., terrified for his premature daughter. Elena came to the door and said something he never forgot: "I haven't looked away from her once. Go home. Sleep. I'll be here when you get back."

Marcus later said those words changed how he prayed. He realized he had been begging God to start paying attention, when the truth was that God had never looked away.

The psalmist understood this. "He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep." The Hebrew word for "watches" in Psalm 121 is shamar — it means to guard, to keep, to hedge about protectively. It appears six times in just eight verses, as if the writer could not say it enough.

The Almighty is not a God who checks in occasionally. He is the night-shift nurse of your soul — vigilant when you are vulnerable, present when you are unaware, keeping watch over your going out and your coming in, now and forevermore.