The dishes are stacked and the phone is face-down. The unanswered message, the strange rattle in the car, the call you meant to return will all still be there tomorrow, and tonight they are not yours to carry. Walk out to the end of the dock in your mind. The water is dark and wide, and the evening is cooling.
"Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." — 1 Peter 5:7 (KJV)
Tonight's prayer Lord, I am standing at the end of the dock with my hands full. Here is the worry about money. Here is the conversation I keep replaying. Here is the thing I forgot, and the thing I cannot fix. I throw them out, one at a time, and I do not hear them land as a splash. I hear them received. You said you care for me, and I take you at your word. Not one of these is too heavy for you or too small. My arms are empty now, and my shoulders have dropped. Thank you for being the kind of God who catches what I throw. Thank you for this bed, this breath, this quiet.
Blessing for your rest Goodnight, dear one. May the water be still, the house be warm, and every sleeper under your roof be held in the hands that caught everything you gave away tonight.