Evensong

At the end of the day, before the dark completes itself, there is a light that is neither sun nor night —

the hour the monks called compline: complete, sufficient, enough.

Let the day be closed gently. Let what was good be received and what was hard be released. Let the unfinished things wait until morning makes them possible.

You have been held today. Even in the moments you did not feel it.

Even in the places you were less than you meant to be.

Even in the long ordinary hours that will leave no mark on history but left a mark on you.

Let the evensong be this: thank you. And: I trust You with the night. And: I will come back in the morning.