Instead of Sheep

By Richard M. Romney

When I have trouble sleeping, I follow the advice from a song my mother used to sing.

man awake in bed while images of a temple, a hymnbook, and a sacrament tray float around him

When I was young, during the Christmas holidays my mother would sometimes sing me to sleep with a song called “Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep” from the movie White Christmas.¹ The song includes the powerful advice that if your concerns are keeping you awake, thinking about your blessings can bring you peace and rest.

I’m more than 70 years old now, and it’s funny how after so many years I can still imagine my mother singing that song with me as I drifted off to sleep. Singing it now still brings me peace.

Unfortunately, like most of us as we grow older, I sometimes have sleepless nights. I might be worrying about a child or a grandchild, thinking about how to help a friend, or wondering how to reconcile with someone I may have inadvertently offended.

Often, however, it’s a physical ache or a pain—a muscle cramp or an arthritic knuckle—that awakens me. And then it takes me a while to fall asleep again.

To calm my heart and help me rest from my cares, I try to see how many things I can express thanks for: shelter, warmth, food, clothing, neighbors, life, sunshine, trees and flowers, water, the beauties of nature, the ability to learn.

I think of each member of my family, expressing thanks to Heavenly Father that they are part of my life, praying for Him to bless and watch over them, thanking Him for my faithful wife, for temple covenants, and for the promises of eternity.

I often repeat the words of hymns, singing them in my heart and thanking the Lord for the comfort they bring. I especially enjoy singing “Count Your Blessings,” which includes this counsel: “Count your many blessings; angels will attend, / Help and comfort give you to your journey’s end.”²

Frequently I recite all 13 Articles of Faith. As I ponder the meaning of each one, I think of the blessings we understand more clearly and deeply because of the restored gospel: knowledge of the Godhead, freedom to choose, the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, the rewards of obedience, and so on.

Sometimes I review in my mind the sacrament prayers. I marvel at the promise that by remembering Jesus Christ and keeping His commandments, we can always have His Spirit to be with us (see Doctrine and Covenants 20:77). I think of other favorite scriptures or stories from the scriptures. I put myself in the story and wonder if I would have had sufficient faith to trust in the Lord with all my heart (see Proverbs 3:5). I think of living prophets, their messages from general conference, and their guidance as we prepare for the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.

Many times, I think about the Redeemer. I wonder what it must have been like in the premortal councils, when the need for a Savior was made known and the Firstborn Son was willing to do His Father’s will (see Moses 4:1–2). I imagine Jehovah as the great Creator of the earth and all that is in it (see John 1:1–3). I contemplate His birth in Bethlehem, His visit to the temple at age 12, His ministry and the miracles He performed, the teachings He gave, His Atonement, His Resurrection, and His love for each of Heavenly Father’s children, including me.³

Yes, when my thoughts are troubled and sleep won’t come, I count my blessings. Then even if I drift off while I’m reciting a scripture or the words of a hymn, I find myself rejoicing. And with gratitude in my heart, my sleep is peaceful.

The author lives in Utah.