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 words of the nightime prayer from the New Zealand Prayer Book (1989) are present in my mind this evening as I sit down to write, feeling tired and a bit out of sorts. It was another Saturday spent working to get myself ready to move, packing boxes, emptying cabinets and sorting things. I am beginning to think that my “stuff” is enchanted, bewitched in some way such that the more I pack, the more there is to pack, and the larger the mess I seem to be creating. Even though I’m putting things into boxes—which should, in theory, reduce the amount of stuff—everything seems to be multiplying like rabbits, spreading across my desktop, onto floors and over just about all of the horizontal surfaces in my house.
The night is dark.Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives rest in you.
I confess to having a hard time some nights. During the course of a busy, nonstop day like this one I don’t have too much time to think beyond what I’m putting into what box or what I’m going to do with all the remaining “stuff” that seems to have materialized out of thin air. But when night time comes and the frenetic activity of the day finally begins to wind down, the anxious, restless thoughts that I’ve kept at bay all seem to come flooding into my consciousness. Doubts and fears, sadness and grief, myriad other emotional states have swirled around me on many nights over the past months. And the fears of the darkness of the world also creep into my thoughts as I ponder not only my own future, but that of the state and nation. Just because I can’t do anything about it doesn’t necessarily free my mind from thinking about it. Those too I need to let go of.
The night is quiet.Let the quietness of your peace enfold us, all dear to us,
And all who have no peace.
I have often longed for quietness and peace; some nights it has felt elusive and far from me. I smile as I listen to the croaking and chirruping of nighttime animals, particularly riotous this evening. Quietness of spirit is what this invites me to, for even in the din of sounds outside my window, internal quietness and calm is possible. Oh to have that peace that “passes all understanding,” the stillness of spirit I have experienced in brief flashes throughout my lifetime. So many things are happening in and around me that it is at times difficult to maintain an even keel. I have learned to exercise the muscle of self-soothing, learning to quiet my heart, ease my fears, and calm my thoughts. I still have a way to go before I am very good at it, but am getting stronger over time. While practice might not make perfect, it does make one better.
The night is heralds the dawn.Let us look expectantly to a new day, new joys, new possibilities.
In your name we pray. Amen.
I am grateful for every day and over the course of a given day I constantly walk in gratitude. This is not by way of bragging; there’s nothing to be gained from bragging as far as I can see. No, it is simply a fact, simply my way of being in the world. Today has not been a particularly good day; but neither has it been a bad one. I didn’t accomplish all of what I wanted to, as has seemed to be my lot the last few weekends, but as the prayer says, “Let it be.” And I think I will.
I get to start over tomorrow morning with a fresh set of grace, compassion, mercy and all good things and with a choice of how I want my day to go. Each moment, each hour that goes by I am deciding how the next moment, hour will go. So even if this moment is a struggle, the next can bring ease. Each morning I offer brief expressions of lovingkindness for myself, my loved ones, and all beings. Such a practice grounds me and prepares me as I go into the day. And as I close this day with the nighttime prayer, I hope to likewise ground myself, infusing myself with wishes for and thoughts of stillness, peace, and expectations for the new day. May it be so.
