Last night I spent the night as the only person in the Ignatius House Jesuit Retreat Center outside of Atlanta. I arrived in the evening so I would be ready to present a retreat today to a group of (what turned out to be) inspiring, incredibly open and courageous cancer patients, along with their supportive family and friends and some dedicated and equally inspiring caregivers and pastoral care workers. More on that tomorrow. But last night I found myself all alone in the big ole rambling place. “Sounds creepy,” said Sue and our daughter Jenny on the phone. But it was just the kind of silence and darkness that I needed. Night — especially a dark and quiet night out in the country — often gives focus to my prayer and pulls my thoughts to God more intensely because the dark and the silence block out the noise and light of the world. So I was not feeling creepy but, rather, deeply.
I wandered the halls a little. I sat in the small chapel for an hour and a half reading, praying and working on the next day’s talks. I sat out on a balcony and watched a spider spin a web. Midnight was approaching and I could have stayed up much later; would have if not for the knowledge that I had to get up early to begin my day. I reluctantly turned in, but not before offering a prayer to the Creator of the night — the artist of darkness and the composer of exquisite silence.
A Night Prayer
Under the veil of dark
I turn to you, Lord
To illuminate the night
To lighten my mind
To enlighten my soul
To recall my day
To find your movements
To begin to begin again
To anticipate tomorrow
To live in hope.
Ask yourself in silence: Do you find God in the darkness and quiet of the night? Do you take the time to review your day in the evening and prepare for the next day?
Yes, Steve, in the still of the night, when everything around is enveloped in a cover of darkness, I am, at first, assailed by thoughts and memories of loved ones who have passed on. A sense of desolation creeps in then I recall happily that for believers and keepers of our faith, reward of a place in Heaven is our right as children of God. I whisper a prayer of gratitude and thanks for God’s all forgiving and all patient love as I am sure they are enjoying their rightful places there. The silence induces me to remember the monumental sacrifice of Christ’s death on the cross for minnows like us. I am filled with awe and a contrite heart. I pen below my own little spur of the moment verse encouraged by yours:-
Silently, the long fingers of night,
Snuff out the noise and light of day.
There is nothing but darkness yet my sight stays bright
And my mind steers towards God as I quietly pray
Almost at once, I am reminded again and again
Who but only God can orchestrate such a change.
God Bless,
Lily
What a beautiful, beautiful poem, Lily. I hope you do more of this!