Maybe like me you prefer to do your devotions or your prayers in the morning. I like to begin my day with a reading, or a poem, or a prayer - something that wakes up my spirit and my mind as my coffee wakes up my body. But in these days when everything seems turned upside down, I’ve been more reflective in the evenings.

In her book, “The Cup of Our Life: A Guide for Spiritual Growth,” Joyce Rupp talks about “the evening review.” The evening review, she writes, “is meant to bring wholeness into your entire day, to wrap the day, with the ribbon of prayer.” Isn’t that lovely? Wrapping the day with a ribbon of prayer helps settle the loose threads that my mind is constantly tugging at. She suggests asking yourself these questions for the evening review:

How open or aware was I to the presence of God in my day?

What kind of nourishment did I receive? What kind of nourishment did I give?

Does anything need to be emptied out in order for me to be at peace tonight?

If an evening review or an end of the day prayer is new to you, I suggest you try this practice and see what happens in your life. See if there are subtle shifts in your perspective or heart as you settle in for sleep.  

May you be blessed by this practice. And here is an evening prayer for you from the New Zealand Prayer Book; it is one of my favorites. 

Lord, it is night.

The night is for stillness. Let us be still in the presence of God.

It is night after a long day. What has been done has been done; what has not been done has not been done; let it be.

The night is dark. Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives rest in you.

The night is quiet. Let the quietness of your peace enfold us, all dear to us, and all who have no peace.

The night heralds the dawn. Let us look expectantly to a new day, new joys, new possibilities.

In your name we pray, Amen.

Peace to you,

Ruth

A friend called me and yelled into the phone, “CAN THE PANDEMIC BE OVER NOW, PLEASE!” I knew who was calling even without looking at the caller ID. The caller was one of my most extroverted friends. She is an amazing clergywoman, a gifted preacher, an adventurer, and mom of two young boys.  She thrives on engaging with people, preferably in person. We have collaborated on projects over the years and I know her to be creative and wonderfully flexible as she seeks to proclaim God’s grace to the world.  But on this day it was clear that months of this pandemic have worn away at her usual “go with the flow” approach to life.  

I get it. So much has changed that we even have a new vocabulary to go with the times: “pandemic fatigue” and “quarantine fatigue.” These are real feelings, and they are hard. We are worn out by the ever changing virus statistics, the constant calculations we make as we decide what is safe to do and what isn’t, the political bickering that isn’t always grounded in our public health, and the fact that we just don’t know how or when this is going to end. This is hard. We are struggling. And we are people of faith. 

Our scriptures, the stories of how our lives are tucked into God’s story, contain words of encouragement for times such as these. Now, please hear me. Our hopes don’t negate our sufferings. We can experience both suffering and hope at the same time, and we should. We are not called to stuff our feelings, put on false smiles, and power through pandemics. Our grief, our frustrations, our pains are real and need to be acknowledged and tended.  The same is true for our hopes. Romans 12:12 reads, 

“Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer” (NRSV).

I find comfort and encouragement in these words, but sometimes it helps to hear them in different ways. The Message translation reads, “Don’t burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don’t quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality” (Romans 12:11-13).

My friend and I talked about her sufferings but also her joys. She talked animatedly about the creative things her congregation is trying this summer.  She shared how lovely it has been being at home more with the boys and about the family hikes they have taken. In the midst of all the unknowns she has mastered new recipes, and planted a garden. She is still fueled by God’s love and grace, the prayers and practices of her tradition, and the call to seek justice for all. She still strives to be an “alert servant of the Master”  but knows she needs a few more naps than before the pandemic. Friends, it’s ok to cry out “CAN THIS BE OVER NOW, PLEASE!” Hold those cries up to God, knowing that God can handle our hardships. Hold up your joys, too, knowing that God rejoices in all goodness. Cling to what is good, and pray always, trusting that God hears our prayers. 

A devotion on Psalm 23 in Three Movements.

Vs. 1-3 The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. 

    He makes me lie down in green pastures;

he leads me beside still waters;

    he restores my soul.

He leads me in right paths 

 for his name’s sake.

 Vs. 4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley,

    I fear no evil;

for you are with me;

    your rod and your staff—

    they comfort me.

Vs: 5-6 You prepare a table before me

    in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

    my cup overflows. 

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

    all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

    my whole life long.

Verses 1-3

We were created for times of stillness and rest, no matter what is going on in the rest of the world, and this time is a gift.  Picture in your mind’s eye, or get out some colored pencils and paper and draw what those green pastures and still waters look like to you.  Sit with this image for a while and let yourself relax, knowing that God is about the work of restoring us. Now use this Psalm as a breath prayer. When we pay attention to our breath, and when our exhales are a little longer than our inhales, we calm down our nervous system. So as you inhale, say in your mind, “The Lord is my Shepherd,” hold that breath for one beat then slowly exhale as you say in your mind, “I shall not want,” trying to make that exhalation a beat or two longer than your inhalation. Continue to breathe in and out with the beginning words of the Psalm.  Let it be a moment to bask in God’s peace for you. 

Verse 4. We all have had times of dark valleys. Think back to those times in your life when you felt like you were walking through hard times. Maybe it was a time of grief, or a job transition, or a broken relationship. Maybe it was a time when you just didn’t know if God was paying any attention to you and your life. Make a list of those dark valley moments.  How did you come through that time? Were there people who helped you, actions that you took, words that sustained you, or time that healed you? What did you learn and how were you changed? We trust that God’s promise of presence is very real for us, not just in good times but in all times, dark valleys included. We also trust that our presence with each other makes a difference. As the body of Christ none of us walk through the valleys alone because God is with us through the Holy Spirit and the words and actions of one another. 

Verses 5-6. In these verses we hear that God is setting us a table, anointing us, and overfilling our cups. God is busy looking after us and our needs! God is a God of abundance! God is generous, loving, and audacious, not letting anything stand in the way of being God with us! One of my favorite childrens’ Psalm books ends with a picture of two puppies, one named Goodness and one named Mercy, closely following on the heels of a small child. That image makes me smile every time I think of it. God is like that; so connected and loving towards us that God is always at our heels (and before us, above us, and beside us).  I invite you to keep that image in your head. Imagine God is at work setting a table for you, anointing you, overfilling your cup, and sticking with you wherever you go. 

Peace to you, Ruth