Now Rest

“He said to them, ‘Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?'” Luke 2:49
Today is Day 350 at the Dispatch. Tomorrow brings us into March, the month this all started last year. Uff da.
Day 350 was spent in worship at Grace. It’s not often that there are two different preachers at Grace on the same Sunday and neither of them is me. This morning, we were blessed by Pastor Troy’s sermon, helping us to let go of our lives in order to find them; to die that we might live. This afternoon, Bishop Yehiel Curry preached at Bach Cantata Vespers. His sermon reinforced God’s finding of us, reminding us that Christ is with us in the midst of all things. Not a bad way to spend the day!
There were a few other moments for me in worship today. At the 8:30 service we sang “Lord, Thee I Love with All My Heart.” Well, other people sang it. I couldn’t get out more than three words at a time without starting to cry. This hymn calls to mind so many saints of Grace, both in earth and in heaven. I hope I wasn’t on camera. At our 11:00 service of in-person Holy Communion, I saw people I hadn’t seen in a year. What a blessing to have the bond between us renewed around the Lord’s Supper. This afternoon’s vespers was marvelous and ended perfectly with “Now Rest beneath Night’s Shadow.” The final words are a fitting benediction: “Sweet slumber may God send you; the angel hosts attend you and through the night watch o’er your beds.”
Time to go say goodnight to my boys. May angels attend you tonight and carry you through tomorrow.
Be well, friends. You are loved.
God, let us release the cares of today. Calm our minds. Relax our hearts. Let us sink into your grace as we go to our beds. Give us rest, Lord, that tomorrow we may serve you. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
Image: Torsten, not quite two-years old. This picture is from summer 2015, shortly before we moved to Oak Park. May we all sleep as soundly as he did that night.
Lord, Thee I Love always makes me cry. That’s what it’s for. There are so many memories attached to it. You’ll get to sing it at my funeral
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