Bedtime prayers

When I was young, my mother would sit on my bed and listen to my bedtime prayers.  Before I got to the long list of “God bless” everyone in my family, all our pets, and my best friend, and prior to ending with the fervent wish “and make Susie a good girl,” I would pray the “Now I lay me down to sleep” prayer.

But my mother taught it to me with an important change from the traditional chilling images of dying before I woke up:

Now I lay me down to sleep

Pray the Lord my soul to keep.

Be with me throughout the night

And wake me with the  morning’s light.  

That image of God lovingly watching over my slumber is embedded in my psyche.  It is  especially meaningful at the end of a long or draining day. My childhood prayer reminds me to “lay down” my worries as I prepare for bed.  Or, as my wise seminary mentor warned me, “Make sure you don’t take your congregation to bed with you.” In other words – there are times when I need to let go.  Times when I turn my very real concerns over to God’s care so that my nighttime rest is not haunted by the actions of callous and uncaring people.

I am leaning into a practice that I started a couple of years ago. Instead of my mother witnessing my prayers (which, at age 95, she actually would still be glad to do…), I go to our front door, open it up, and lean out into the fresh air.

I look up.

  Some nights I observe stars and gauge the moon’s phase. I recognize a few constellations and point out a planet or two. Some nights it’s overcast with no light in the sky. Other times it’s raining or snowing.  

But every single night, I say goodnight to God and entrust the world into God’s care. In those moments I am intentionally trusting that God is actively present. Looking out at the universe reminds me that powers much greater than my own are at work. It helps me believe that ultimately, God’s goodness will prevail even when I can’t see the way forward.

My new favorite nighttime prayer comes from the New Zealand Prayer Book.   It offers me comfort and peace as I prepare to rest so that I can be strengthened to begin again tomorrow. 

Lord,

It is night.

The night is for stillness.

         Let us be still in the presence of God.

It is night after a long day.

         What has been done has been done;

         What has not been done has not been done;

         Let it be.

The night is dark.

         Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives

         Rest in you.

The night is quiet.

         Let the quietness of your peace enfold us.

         All dear to us,

         And all who have no peace.

The night heralds the dawn.

         Let us look expectantly to a new day,

                     New joys,

         New possibilities.

In your name we pray.

Amen. New Zealand Prayer Book, p. 184

Do you have a favorite nighttime ritual?

Waiting

Sometimes God’s abundant blessings are immediately apparent – we wake up grateful for a new day, amazed by the beauty of creation, and filled with confidence that God is right here, right now.

Other times, not so much.

Other times, God is not so easily found.

Sometimes we just have to …wait.

And watch.  And trust.

Holy Week guides us through those waiting times. Day by day during this long week leading up to resurrection, we walk through loss and pain and grief. We hear stories of betrayal, pain, and desertion. We are reminded that there are seasons of our lives that hurt.  Either we are experiencing a time of challenge and loss or we know someone who is.

There are times when God seems far away and when we cannot fathom what God is doing.

And so we wait.

And watch.  And trust.

Holy Week also reminds us that God is faithful.

The Good News is that God meets us where we are.  God will not abandon us.  We are not alone.

During this Holy Week and beyond – let us wait and watch for God.

Let us trust that God is at work in ways that we may not yet be able to understand.

But God’s love will prevail.

“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”  Psalm 27

It’s hard to wait

Waiting is hard. When I look at our snow-covered yard, I yearn for spring. The daffodils I planted last fall are nowhere in sight. Dirty piles of old snow, mud, and messy puddles seem determined to stay and my desire for spring is not making it arrive any quicker.  We are in that in-between time that only maple syrup producers can love. It’s not quite winter, but it is not yet spring. It is hard to wait.

            So much of life is like that. We want answers, results, clarity. The chemo patient wants to know now if treatments are working. The expectant mother wants assurance that her baby will be healthy and strong. Awkward adolescents want to fast forward to a time when they will fit in. The addict wants proof that rehab will bring health and wholeness.

            Life, unfortunately, looks more like my yard these days – messy and unfinished – rather than a tidy, neatly defined happy ending.

Life is what happens while we’re waiting for results and yearning for completion. The “highlights” of life – graduation, awards, achievement – are just a fraction of our experience. Most of life is lived in the “in-between” times. It’s in the struggle, the waiting, and the effort. While every athlete dreams of crossing the finish line with arms upraised in victory, most of their time is spent in training. Every gardener rejoices in healthy vegetables and blooming flowers, but a lot of weeding and fertilizing came before that glorious result.

While God is certainly present in crowning achievements, I think God lives in the uncertainty of our lives. God is in the waiting room, in the dreary loneliness of grief, in the struggle for another hour of sobriety, in the grinding worry for a loved one, and in the endless tasks of a caregiver.

It’s hard to wait.  We want to get “there.” If we think we will only discover God when we reach the Promised Land of completion, we will miss the God of the journey. We will overlook the one who travels with us not just to green pastures but also through all the dark valleys along the way.

It’s hard to wait.  But we worship a patient God and God will wait with us.