For all the preachers who are walking the floor tonight
With sick children or
Upset stomachs or
Sick, four-legged children
with upset stomachs

For all the preachers who cannot rest
Whose sermons are uncooked
Unmeshed
Unfinished
Unpreachable

For all the preachers whose sleep is disturbed
By dreams of Isaac
Bound on a mountaintop
Or wandering sheep
Or unfindable coins

For all the preachers who ponder troubles
With trustees and elders
With vestries and consistories
With new calls
And long ministries
Or no place to speak

For all the fortunate who rest well
Whose sermons gelled
Whose households sleep sweetly
Whose cats do not howl

And for all lying somewhere in between

We pray for your Sunday blessings, loving God.
Free us from the binding of human expectations.
Seek us when we are hidden under the rug of exhaustion.
Return us to the fold when we have lost the way.

Empower us by your Holy Spirit
To bring the Good News
To the weary
To the wandering
To the woebegone

To ourselves, too.

You are Love.
You are Mercy.
You are Grace.

We thank you for all these things,
Holding out hope for the holy nap to come,
In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.