The day's noise has thinned to a low hum, and the list on the counter still has half its lines uncrossed. A few messages sit unanswered, and the laundry waits in its basket. Let them all stay just as they are. Nothing planted today needs you awake to grow.
"And thou shalt be secure, because there is hope; yea, thou shalt dig about thee, and thou shalt take thy rest in safety." — Job 11:18 (KJV)
Tonight's prayer Father, I spent today digging. I dug trenches and rows, and small holes for small hopes. Some I finished. Some are still open to the sky. Tonight I lay the spade down. You know where every seed is buried. You know which need rain and which need only dark. Let me sleep the way a bulb sleeps in cold ground, sure of spring without counting the days. Quiet the questions I keep turning over. Open my hands. Be the keeper of my doors and the hush above my roof. Thank You for hope that holds my weight, for rest that is safe, and for a morning already on its way. Amen.
Blessing for your rest May the Lord who tends every hidden thing keep watch over you and everyone under your roof tonight. Sleep deep and secure, and wake to green things rising.