It is mid-November in North Carolina, and the dark now arrives before supper is on the table. This is a prayer for that hour.
Lord, the light is leaving earlier now, and I feel it in my chest before I notice it on the clock. The afternoon slips away, and with it goes some of my certainty that I have done enough.
Meet me in this dimming hour. Where I am tired, let me rest without apology. Where I am restless, teach me to sit still and let a lamp be enough.
I thank you for the leaves that have finished their work and let go without complaint. Show me what I am gripping that you are asking me to release. Show me what I have carried all year that was never mine to carry.
Bless the kitchen windows glowing along our street. Bless the ones who are coming home in the dark, and the ones who have no one waiting. Make me attentive to both.
When the long nights come, remind me that darkness is not your absence, only another room in your house.
Keep a small light burning in me, and let it be a kindness to someone else.
Amen.