The car engine ticks as it cools, and the dishes are still in the sink, and the phone has gone dark on the counter. Nothing more is required of your legs tonight. Let your head go heavy, the way a child's does on the long drive home.
"Into thine hand I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O LORD God of truth." — Psalm 31:5 (KJV)
Tonight's prayer Father, here is my spirit. I put it into your hand the way I once let someone lift me from the back seat, shoes dangling, eyes shut. I don't need to know the way to my own bed. You bought me back, and you have never once told me a lie. So I will not hold my breath for the morning or grip the unfinished things. Whatever is crooked, you can carry it straight. Whatever is lost, you already know where it sits. I am small, and your hand is large, and that is enough. Thank you for the arms I cannot see and for the home you are carrying me toward.
Blessing for your rest May you wake tomorrow without remembering how you got to your pillow, only that you were carried. Peace to you and everyone under your roof tonight.