When the day has been too much.
Lord,
I'm here.
I don't have much left.
The day took a lot.
Maybe more than I was expecting it to.
I'm right now.
I'm not coming to you with energy or eloquence or any kind of put-together prayer.
I'm just coming.
Tired?
A little worn?
Maybe a little frayed around the edges.
And somehow,
I think you're okay with that.
I think you've been waiting for this moment all day.
Not when I had it together.
Not when I performed well or held things up perfectly.
But this moment right here.
Where it's just you and me and I have nothing left to prove.
So I settle in.
I let my shoulders drop.
I let my jaw unclench.
I give myself permission with you.
To just stop.
I want to be honest with you about today,
Lord,
Because you already know.
But there's something about saying it out loud,
Even here in the quiet,
That begins to loosen it.
Today was hard.
Maybe it was a conversation that didn't go the way I hoped.
Maybe it was a list that never got finished.
A problem that followed me from morning to evening.
Feeling I couldn't shake.
That I wasn't enough.
The things were too much.
That I couldn't see how any of this was going to work out.
Maybe I said something I regret.
Maybe someone said something that hurt me and I've been carrying it in my chest all day without even realizing it.
Maybe I just feel the weight of life.
The relentless,
Beautiful,
Exhausting weight of a life that asks a lot of me every single day.
I name it now,
All of it.
Whatever today costs me,
I bring it here.
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
Psalm 147.
3.
You see every wound today left,
Every place I stretched too thin,
Every moment that cost me more than I showed,
And you don't look at me with disappointment.
You look at me with compassion.
You come close.
You bind up what is broken.
I receive that tonight,
Lord.
I let you tend to me.
Now I want to do something that doesn't always come naturally to me.
I want to let go.
Not pretend the hard things didn't happen.
Not paste a smile over something that genuinely hurt,
But truly hand it over.
Release it into your care,
Because I have tried to carry tomorrow's worries tonight.
And I am telling you,
Lord,
It has never once helped.
Worry has never solved a single thing.
It has only stolen my sleep and my peace and my presence.
So tonight,
I choose differently.
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
1 Peter 5.
7 I cast it.
I actively,
Deliberately cast it.
Like I'm releasing something I've been gripping with both hands.
The situation I don't know how to fix.
The relationship I don't know how to heal.
The decision I don't know how to make.
The future cannot see.
I open my hands right now,
Even just in my imagination,
And I let it go into yours.
You are not surprised by any of this.
You are not overwhelmed.
You are not pacing the floors of heaven wondering how it's all going to work out.
You are God.
You hold all of this.
And because you hold it.
I don't have to.
I want to sit here with you for a moment,
Not asking,
Not striving,
Just being.
In a world that never stops moving,
That is always demanding something more from me.
I choose to be still,
Right here,
Right now,
With you.
Be still and know that I am God.
Psalm 46 10.
Be still,
Know that you are God.
That's it.
That's the whole instruction.
You are God,
Not me.
Not the circumstances I'm facing,
Not the opinions of others,
Not my own fear.
Not the worst-case scenario my mind keeps wandering toward.
You are God,
And that means tonight is in your hands.
This week is in your hands.
My life is in your hands.
And your hands are good.
Lord,
I receive your peace now,
Not the kind the world gives,
Not the peace that depends on everything going right,
Or everyone being okay,
Or all the circumstances lining up perfectly.
The kind only you give.
The peace that doesn't make logical sense.
The peace that guards my heart even when my mind doesn't understand.
And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4-7 Guard my heart tonight,
Jesus.
Guard my mind.
When I close my eyes and the thoughts want to come rushing back in.
The replays,
The what ifs.
The tomorrow worries stand at the door.
Be the piece that I cannot manufacture for myself.
I receive rest as a gift,
Not something I earn.
Not something I have to perform my way into.
A gift.
From a father who loves me and knows I am made of dust.
Who knows I need sleep and stillness and to be reminded that the world does not rest on my shoulders.
It rests on yours.
And you never grow tired.
So I leave today here at your feet.
The good parts.
Thank you for those.
The hard parts,
I trust you with those.
The unfinished things,
The unanswered questions.
The places where I fell short,
I release them.
Tomorrow is a new Mercy.
Your compassions are new every morning.
A morning will come.
But tonight?
Tonight I rest.
In you.
Held by you,
Loved by you.
Known fully and loved completely,
Even on the days when I feel like the least impressive version of myself.
That is enough.
You are enough.
And somehow,
Because of you,
So am I.
Thank you,
Lord.
Thank you for this day.
Even the hard parts of it.
Thank you for being here in the quiet at the end of it.
Thank you for being the God who never leaves,
Never sleeps,
And never stops working.
Even while I rest.
I love you.
Good night.
Amen.
You
