The dishwasher is still humming, three texts sit unanswered, and the laundry pile didn't shrink the way you hoped. Your shoulders have been carrying that all day without asking permission. Let them drop now — the pillow is soft enough to hold what you can finally put down.
"Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." — 1 Peter 5:7 (KJV)
Tonight's prayer Father, my hands are tired from gripping things that were never mine to hold alone. Tonight I open them. Take the worry about tomorrow's meeting, the ache over that unfinished conversation, the small fears I never said out loud. You already knew them before I named them, and you still call me yours. I don't have to fix anything else tonight. Thank you for a God who bends down to lift what I drop, for a bed to rest in, and for another day of breath I didn't earn but was given. Amen.
Blessing for your rest Sleep well tonight, and let every worry stay right where you left it at his feet. Peace to you and to everyone under your roof, now and until morning light.