Late in the night we pray,
when the words don’t come easily,
or we’re comforting a croupy child
or we made the time to see friends,
and got a late start,
or we raked leaves with the youth group,
then needed a nap,
and we don’t quite know where the day went.
We didn’t leave it to the last minute on purpose.
We thought about it all week.
And even if we didn’t,
And maybe especially if we didn’t,
And even if there were good reasons,
And maybe especially if there weren’t any to speak of,
We pray, late in the night.
Help us, help us, Loving God.
Help us to make sense
of ancient words
and holy tales,
of hopeful promises
in the midst of disaster,
of comforting words
when all seemed darkest.
Help us to open the old stories,
to make them real for those who listen,
to make them real for ourselves.
When the words don’t come easily,
give us the courage to trust you,
to believe you have a plan for our welfare,
to believe you will be right beside us,
to believe there will be words.