Thunder, No Storm

Psalm 63:2-9

Phrases that spoke to me today:
• I remember you through the watches of the night
• in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy
• my soul clings fast to you; your right hand upholds me

Applying the Word to My Life:
Stacey and I were in Ukraine during the early months of the war, volunteering with a group that provided medical training and supplies. Our first night in Lviv, we found places to sleep in an abandoned dormitory. Before bed, we prayed Night Prayer together, the Church's bedtime prayer, including the familiar words: "Protect us, Lord, as we stay awake; watch over us as we sleep, that awake, we may keep watch with Christ, and asleep, rest in his peace."

Sometime during the night, we woke to what sounded like thunder. We started talking about the storm until we realized there was no storm. A Russian missile salvo had been launched, and the sounds we were hearing were from the attack around the city.

A few hours earlier, we had prayed to be watched over while we slept. Now we were awake in the middle of the night listening to the sounds of war.

That prayer didn't promise us an uneventful night. It did something more important. It reminded us where to place ourselves whether the night was quiet or dangerous.

That's what I hear in today's psalm. David says, "I think of you upon my bed, I remember you through the watches of the night; for you are my help." The night has a way of stripping things down. During the day we can stay busy, solve problems, distract ourselves, and keep moving. In the darkness, when there's less we can actually do, what we trust begins to show.

We don't end the day by solving everything. We end it by remembering whose hands we're in.

That's part of the interior life. Trust isn't something we suddenly manufacture when fear arrives. It's formed over time as we learn to return to God, remember His faithfulness, and place what we can't control into His care.

The psalm ends with an image I love: "My soul clings fast to you; your right hand upholds me." We cling to God, but underneath our grip is something stronger. He is holding us.

Most of us will never wake to the sound of a missile attack. But all of us eventually lie awake with something we can't fix before morning. A problem, a fear, someone we love, a regret, an uncertain future. The watches of the night come for everyone.

When they do, Night Prayer gives us a way to answer them. Awake, we keep watch with Christ. Asleep, we rest in His peace. Either way, we're not holding ourselves together alone.

My Response for Today:
Tonight I'll place one unfinished worry in God's hands before I sleep.