Memories are Strange Things
Today, Ken was reading from a devotional. He read this prayer:
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I shall die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.
I was instantly back saying night prayers as a little girl with my younger sister. It never entered my head to deviate from what my mom was prompting us to say. My independent streak did not erupt until many years later. But Jeanne was not so meekly compliant and night after night she said her version.
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, And I pray I wake up in the morning. Amen.
I silently echoed her version. My understanding of God was pretty vague and I was not all that interested in going anywhere my mom was not. When Ken read that prayer during our devotions, I said not one word. I just enjoyed the memory. Then I tucked it carefully back into a drawer stuffed with good childhood memories. Today I look forward to waking up each day as one more day to know God better, to serve in God’s Kingdom. But I am fine with having my Lord take my soul because heaven is my real home.