Listening to an Evening Prayer

Today seemed like a day full of small and large distractions. It was marked by some worries and frequent tiredness, by pains and too much to do,  by the sense that time was evaporating and future stresses were building. As our day drew to a close, I realized that I wanted to pray – not to thank God for a day still rich in all that we needed (which I maybe should have), but because I wanted to ask for help to reach inside my own tiredness in order to pulled out of it for a moment. I was aware that I was yearning to be pulled out of my self-focused griefs, to be reminded of what was real and what mattered, to know how to order my wants and needs and stresses. For me this has always been an important part of what prayer is – but I noticed it again tonight in a new way. I think this is because our small group recently talked about prayer and we shared how we each see it, practice it, struggle with it, etc. Since our conversation, I’ve been noticing how I view prayer or practice it (or don’t), and have come to the conclusion that I benefit most from prayers where I let myself be moved from myself through prayer. In other words, where I let prayer re-orient me, re-teach me, remind me of God’s view on all this mess, or reconnect me to the beautiful and the encouraging. I sometimes pray my more standard lines, of thanks, asking, praising, etc. – but find that woven throughout these prayerful thoughts, what I most need is a way to say, “God, I need to be told again who I am, whose I am, who I am to be.” It seems that only this meets my deepest tiredness and stress and like nothing else, can drown out the other voices/concerns/feelings that seem to take over my day. I’ve realized lately that my prayers are more about listening – to God’s still small voice, to other voices that remind me of who God is, or even listening to myself speak truth to myself. I often know the truth when I slow down and remember it, and when I let God have some space in my head. I know that God cares about the small and the mudane days, that God is in my small moments and worries, as well as in the big and painful realities. I know that life is made up of more than these little distractions that weigh me down and that God is doing so much in the world that matters to me. So I am trying to listen tonight - to my own voice that reminds me of the basic truths, to God’s small whispers of mercy. And I was also reminded of this fabulous evening prayer that has always helped me greatly in this quest to re-orient life rightly, since it points me to who God has always been and will always be, despite my small days and my tired nights:   

Lord, You have always given bread for the coming day; and though I am poor, today I believe.

Lord, You have always given strength for the coming day; and though I am weak, today I believe.

Lord, You have always given peace for the coming day; and though of anxious heart, today I believe.

Lord, You have always kept me safe in trials; and now, tried as I am, today I believe.

Lord, You have always marked the road for the coming day; and though it may be hidden, today I believe.

Lord, You have always lightened this darkness of mine; and though the night is here, today I believe.

Lord, You have always spoken when time was ripe; and though you be silent now, today I believe.

(from the Northumbria Community, Celtic Daily Prayer Office)