There is an hour in November, just before the dark comes down, when the light turns thin and gold and the whole day seems to lean toward its ending. I have found it a good hour to stop and pray, so here is one for anyone who needs it.
Gracious God,
The light is going, and I am still holding the day in both hands.
There are things I meant to do and did not. There are words I said too quickly and words I never said at all. There are people I meant to call, and a few I would rather not think about, and I bring all of it to you now, because I have no better place to set it down.
Teach me the courage to let a day be finished. Let me trust that your mercy does not run on my schedule, and that what I left undone is not beyond your keeping.
Where I was kind today, thank you. Where I was careless, forgive me. Where I was simply tired, and that was most of it, be gentle with me, as you always have been.
Watch over the people I love, near and far, and over the ones I do not know how to love yet. Keep the lonely company tonight. Keep the anxious from the long arithmetic of worry.
As the dark settles in, let me rest in this: that you were in the morning, and you are in the evening, and you will be there when the light comes back.
Amen.